


The Grand Treasure

by Inkaley



Series: The Grand Cause [3]
Category: Fear the Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Family, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Jake/Alicia kid, Kid Fic, M/M, POV First Person, Romance, Slash, Uncle!Nick, Uncle!Troy, raising a kid
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-05-13 10:33:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 44,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14747186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inkaley/pseuds/Inkaley
Summary: The living, the dead - the New World is filled with monsters. And Nick and Troy have fought them all. With their love giving them strength, there is nothing they couldn't face - is there? Looking into the innocent eyes of Alicia and Jake's little kid, both Nick and Troy realize their biggest challenge yet might be right ahead of them.Will they be able to keep safe what they love and protect the greatest treasure they have?Nick/Troy kid!fic, naturally contains Jake/Alicia and the still intact Brokejaw Ranch.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So here it is, the next arc for the Grand Cause - the Clark/Otto family is expanding!  
> This is of course a seamless continuation of the previous chapters. For anyone who's just interested in the kid!fic and doesn't care about the rest: Feel free to join right in! There's no need to catch up on the previous story as long as you can accept Troy and Nick as an established couple :)  
> Before we get to the fluff, though, let's start with a little darkness.

**_Eight years later…_ **

 

_“What is it, kiddo? Why aren’t you asleep?”_

_“Uncle Troy… There’s a monster lurking in the wardrobe…”_

_“A monster? Really?”_

_Slowly, I make my way to the suspicious piece of furniture, hesitate a second, then determinedly open the door… And take in a sharp breath._

_A distraught voice. “What is it??”_

_“You were right…” I reply numbly. “There_ is _a monster in here…” Bending down, I pick something up, then turn around and sit down on the edge of the bed. I open my palm, revealing a piece of fluff. “A dust monster…” I hiss ominously. “And its sole purpose in life is to… tickle your nose!”_

_The reserved child’s voice breaks into a merry giggling as the kid tries to fight off the dust monster._

_Eventually, the room grows quiet again and the dark thoughts seem to have been washed away._

_“See, there is nothing to be afraid of,” I nod encouragingly. “Now go back to sleep.”_

_I’m just about to get up, when all of a sudden, I feel a tight grip around my arm, face pressing against my shoulder._

_“Okay, okay,” I whisper, sitting back down. Or not so washed away… “Everything’s okay…”_

 

The real monsters aren’t lurking in wardrobes.

The real monsters are lurking in the desert – and they’re holding a gun to a child’s temple.

“Please, I’m begging you…” Nick starts pleading next to me. “Let the kid go… Take me instead! I swear to God, I’ll do anything you ask of me…”

My heart involuntarily wrenches as he says this – even though my brain is rooting for that bastard to accept. I don’t want to lose Nick. I couldn’t bear to see Nick hurt. But I know Nick is strong, he could defend himself, he could get through this… A thousand times better than an innocent, helpless, horrified child whose only fault had been to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.

The gang leader looks back at us, eyes glistening. “But why would I do that? As far as I can see, I already have your biggest treasure in my hands, the most valuable bargaining chip I could wish for… I’d be a fool to exchange this little angel for someone else. So…”

He yanks the child closer, barrel still pressed against the kid’s forehead, and immediately both Nick and I stir – the firm grasp on my shoulders growing even tighter to keep me in check.

I’ve never felt this helpless in all my life… There is nothing I can do, nothing at all, as this asshole’s threatening all the happiness that ever made my life worth living.

All I can think of is the kid, our greatest treasure, the brave little soldier who – eye to eye with death – fights so bravely to hold back the tears, who doesn’t make a sound even though the little chest reveals a pounding heart.

“I’d suggest you reconsider my generous offer,” the leader continues smugly. “Until then… The little one will come with us.”

“No!” Nick and I protest in unison, panic urging us to do something – _anything_! But our hands are tied.

“Take the kid,” the gang leader instructs one of his henchmen, and it feels like a punch in the heart to watch the petrified child being dragged away.

“Don’t be afraid, kiddo!” I call after them. “We’ll come for you! No matter what it takes!”

“Quite the optimist,” the man taunts me, but before I can open my mouth to counter, Nick’s already growling at him, bitterly.

“You just signed up for the most gruesome death…”

That gets the asshole to laugh. “Says the one with _nothing_ in his hands. Nothing at all… To the one who has everything. Everything you hold dear…”

A gesture, and Nick’s forced on his knees next to me. From the corner of my eyes, I see him pant with rage. If I gave him a sign, he would fight with me to break free in a heartbeat. And we’d both end up with bullets in our brains.

No. That bastard is right. He’s right about everything.

“I’m expecting your decision,” the leader reminds us one last time, before turning around.

There is one thing _Nick_ had been right about, though.

We’re gonna hunt them down no matter where they run and we’re gonna make them pay. We’re gonna get the kid back, if it’s the last thing we do.

That son of a bitch is in for a gruesome death, indeed.

And hell, we’re gonna be creative…


	2. Come What May

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who's still in romance mood after last weekend's Royal Wedding?  
> Hope you got your dresses and suits back from the dry cleaning, since the next wedding's right ahead and you're all invited :)  
> Prepare for fluff, slush and humor ;)  
> Hope you'll enjoy the new chapter, set about one year after the first anniversary.

**_Six and a half years earlier…_ **

 

“So, Troy…” I shoot him a glance. “How would you consider your chances of becoming an uncle tonight?” I can’t resist wriggling my eyebrows a little, before turning my eyes back on the road and pulling down the sun visor – the setting sun’s suddenly in such a bad angle it’s starting to blind me.

Troy follows suit. “Become?” he then repeats with the frown. “Uhm… _zero_. Unless Alicia had one of those invisible pregnancies….”

Inwardly, I sigh. Oh, Troy, always the nitpicker… “How would you consider your chances of _learning_ you’ll become an uncle soon tonight?” I rephrase.

That gets him to roll his eyes, then he snorts good-naturedly. “Seriously, Nick. Where is that even coming from?”

“Told you,” I insist, shrugging.

He eyes me for a few moments, smiling knowingly. “You’re seeing things,” he points out with an empathic voice. “Even with the rephrased version, I’m still sticking with _zero_.”

 

I’m not _seeing things_. I have proof. Even though aside from me no one seems to have taken the hint seriously. I know what I’ve heard. Yeah, it was some time ago already, I admit that. And yet, I’m ready to bet the ranch (pun intended) it’s not off the table yet.

I remember Alicia’s words all too well. Last November, I think. Shortly after Troy and I had celebrated our second anniversary.

It was one of our Clark Nights, a tradition we’ve grown very fond of. On the first Friday of every month, the Clark family spends the evening together. Just the three of us, no boyfriends. The _inner circle_ , just like in old times.

That night in November, Mom had invited us to her place – yup, she eventually got her own place as well, decided to move out of the bunkhouse to make way for other newcomers to move in. So before I even got the chance to miss my cottage, I already found myself carrying bricks for yet another house. And this time not just rebuilding an existing one, but actually _building_ one from scratch. It had been a whole new kind of challenge. So for several months, this had become our big family project, everyone helping along: Mom, Alicia, Jake and Troy – and many, many other people from the ranch. _Community works together_ , I remember Jeremiah’s words. And hell, it does.

The blueprint for Mom’s place was actually the same as was used for Jake’s home – so it’s also significantly bigger than the cottage used to be. A place that small wouldn’t have worked in her case anyway, since her house is not just her home, but also serves as the ranch’s school. Yes, _school_ , you’ve heard right. Even though the apocalypse deprived us of Superbowl, Netflix and McDonald’s vanilla milk shakes, it hasn’t managed to put an end to school. Or rather, school has been resurrected. Since Mom – as our official _Keeper of Traditions and Knowledge_ , as I once jokingly appointed her – has taken it upon herself to give classes to the kids at the ranch, an initiative very much favored by the adults, much less so by the kids themselves. As guidance counselor at her school in L.A., she had never actively been teaching in the past, even though formally she would have had the necessary education. So now, sometimes in the mornings, you can spot her and her students take a walk across the ranch or sit on the grass in the shade of a tree, solving equations or discussing literature.

She’s grown to love this, that’s obvious, even on that particular Clark Night in November, when she proudly told us about her students’ latest progress, how much – aside from the actual studying – the kids do appreciate the normalcy this brings back to their everyday lives.

“I’m still glad that chapter of my life is over!” I couldn’t help pointing out nevertheless. “Whether in the Old World or in the New one, school sucks! Does anyone need more ore?”

“I do,” Mom replied, trading a few of my cards for lumber.

We were in the middle of playing Settlers of Catan in Mom’s living room, the three of us gathered around the game board on the coffee table.

Alicia wrinkled her nose, shooting me a look. “You sound like a kid with no ambitions.”

“I _don’t_ have any ambitions,” I confirmed with a whisper, as Alicia continued unfazed.

“I would be happy if someone reopened a university and gave me the chance to study medicine after all,” she sighed, rolling the dices. “I mean working with Pam is great, I love it, there’s so much I learn everyday. But it’s basically just learning by doing.” Taking a piece from the stock. “Imma extend my road over here.”

I shot her a look. “But here, you’re helping real people.” It is true. After all, it had almost been a year back then since Alicia, who’s dream had always been to become a doctor someday, had started working at the infirmary – joining Pam as our second medic. Of course, I admit, this is far from an actual medical education, not to mention medical studies at university. But Pam’s doing her best and teaching her everything she knows. For us, this is worth a mint: Since Pam is also part of the militia, she was suddenly a lot freer to accompany us on missions without having to worry about leaving the infirmary unoccupied. Even when she’s away, Alicia is now there, taking care of any medical emergencies that may occur in the meantime.

It’s funny, I realize all of a sudden, somehow there’s a lot more to tell about everyone else then about Troy and me. But then again, that’s actually a good thing, no? It means we’re doing fine without any major occurrences. It means we’ve both finally found our place. In the world and with each other.

Mom went ahead to distribute the current harvest, when I noticed Alicia shooting us a stealthy look, innocently changing the topic.

“Speaking of which,” she started, “Clara came by the infirmary today with little Ronnie,” she told us with ostensible casualness. “Poor kid has caught a cold. But, geez, she’s such a cute little angel. She came walking in all by herself! Even though she’s just a year and a few months. I was so impressed. No wonder she’s the star here at the ranch.”

Mom smiled at that, rolling the dices. “She’s really cute indeed. Anyone else need wheat?”

“Me,” I called quickly, receiving a card from her.

“Me too,” Alicia chipped in as well, then quickly went on with her story. “Everyone is so happy to have her around, right? Even though some people might say it was irresponsible of Nathan and Clara to have a baby in times like these.”

Mom softly paused in her movement, shooting her daughter a questioning look.

“Doing the math,” I countered with a shrug, “I’d say the basis for that was laid at the very beginning of the outbreak, probably when all of us still believed this was some kind of local epidemics.” I was mostly busy considering whether to expand my road to the north or to the south. To the north would have been amazing since I could have tapped a new clay pit, but then again, I would have ended up pretty close to Alicia’s settlement, so not much room for further expansion. Tricky choice…

While I went on babbling about facts, Mom had already read between the lines, gazing at Alicia.

“Is there…” she started slowly, eyes darting to me, then back to Alicia. “Is there anything you wanna tell us?”

Blushing slightly, Alicia quickly grabbed the dices to roll. “God, no! I’m not… I mean, I’m not saying…” She frowned. “It was just hypothetical, okay?!” Then, adding after a few blinks. “This would be a big decision, and we’d… in times like these, we’d never make it without having you guys onboard.”

At that, I eventually looked up from the board as well, not entirely sure what this was about. Were we talking about... what exactly?

“Are you,” Mom went on, “discussing this with Jake?”

For a few moments, Alicia remained silent. Then she looked at us. “We are,” she confessed, putting the dices away. “But we’re not sure. I wanted to hear your thoughts on it.”

Mom and I shared a long look, both perplexed by this unexpected topic.

“Honey,” Mom said eventually, reaching for Alicia’s hand. “You’ve twenty years old. You’re young. There is no need to rush.”

“Isn’t there?” Alicia countered quickly. “Cause we’ve been living in prosperity and peace here for a while now, yeah. But who knows how long it’s gonna last? Maybe one day this place will be destroyed and we’ll be on the run again. Then it may be off the table to have a kid. At least for now we’re living in safety, so who knows if we’ll ever get a chance like this ever again?” She’d started to talk about this so passionately, she left Mom and me startled. So a bit calmer, she added, “I’ve always wanted to start a family one day…”

“This isn’t adopting a puppy, Alicia,” I pointed out, frowning.

“I know that,” she countered hastily. “But that’s exactly why I’m bringing this up. I know in times like these a choice like that can’t be made lightly.” Shaking her head. “I’ve never planned to be faced with considerations like that so soon, but maybe if I ever want to have a family, this might be my only chance. My best chance. Here, at the ranch. With Jake. Because, honestly, I couldn’t think of anyone else more fit to be a dad than him.”

Well, she was right about that, one had to ungrudgingly acknowledge that. Jake’s the most sincere, just and kind-hearted person I know. He would do an incredible job raising a kid. And yet… The thought of our family possibly expanding so soon and in such a significant way felt thrilling and terrifying at the same time. I mean getting boyfriends like Jake or Troy is riskless compared to that. If you find out the person you chose doesn’t match you after all, you can just dump them again. A child on the other hand…

“You know, I don’t want you to rush anything,” Mom eventually repeated, then her face melt into an encouraging smile. “But I get your point. I don’t like the fact that a decision like that has to be made as a rational choice like this nowadays, but maybe that’s just how it is. In the end, it’s up to Jake and you, and of course we’re gonna support you, no matter what.” Looking at me for approval.

I blinked, then I realized she was right. It won’t fall to me to raise a child, not _solely_ anyway. Just like it won’t fall _solely_ to Alicia. We’re one family. We’re all in this together and every one will contribute and pass their strengths on to that kind.

“I’d love to be an uncle,” I informed Alicia with a smile. “Whether in nine months or in nine years.”

 

We haven’t heard of that ever again, I admit that, so both Mom and I have eventually shrugged it off as some temporary phase of Alicia’s. Months have already gone by ever since and I guess we’d almost started to forget that conversation had ever happened. That is, until Alicia invited us to have dinner at Jake’s on June 24th, her birthday.

And that’s exactly where Troy and I are headed right now, me driving the pickup, Troy on the passenger seat next to me, discussing the chances of a big revelation like that actually happening tonight.

I’m convinced. Cause ever since I saw Alicia’s eyes when she’s invited us… that sparkle there… I hadn’t been able to shake off the feeling her birthday isn’t the only thing we’ll be celebrating tonight.

“Look,” Troy suddenly interrupts my thoughts, pointing ahead. “Your mom’s a little late as well.”

Indeed, there’s Mom walking along the road leading up to Jake’s house – on foot, of course. We’d naturally have walked there as well, if it weren’t for Troy’s right leg that’s been in a cast for several weeks now, ever since a piece of rotten timber scaffolding had collapsed on him during one of our missions. So even though Jake’s place technically isn’t that far from the ranch center, on crutches he would have never made it there before Christmas.

I slow down the car once we approach Mom, then let down the window. “Look who’s late as well,” I tease. “Wanna hop in to make up a least a little of time?”

“Oh, I dunno,” she replies with a grin. “My mom told me not to get in the car with strange men.”

“Strange men?!” I protest immediately. “Just FYI, we’ve known each other for–“ Suddenly realizing she didn’t mean _strange_ in the sense of _unknown_. Pursing my lips with a pout. “Oh, thanks…”

She just giggles merrily. “I’d love to hop in, honey.” Not hesitating a second, she pulls open the door and slides on the backseat. “Hi Troy,” greeting him casually. “How’s the leg?”

“Hey, Madison,” he replies, glancing at her over his shoulder. “Getting better every day.”

That’s the overstatement of the year, but I guess he doesn’t wanna whine about it too much with my mom around.

“So, Mom,” I say, shooting her a look through the rear mirror. “How would you consider your chances of becoming a grandma tonight?”

Troy just sighs at that. “Here he goes again…”

“Become?” Mom repeats, perplexed. “ _Zero_?”

At least that gets my boyfriend to chuckle.

I can’t help sighing. Oh, they’re the perfect pair, those two, no denying that…

“He’s been going on about this all day,” Troy informs Mom with a smirk. “Jake and Alicia announcing they’re gonna become parents.”

“Hmh, you sure?” Mom leans towards me a little, frowning. “I don’t know. I sort of assumed that was already long off the table.”

“Yeah, I thought so, too,” I admit. “But then again…”

“I mean, that was like last year when Alicia mentioned it,” Mom points out. “Why wait until now?”

“Maybe it took Jake this long to get it done,” Troy can’t stop himself from suggesting with a gleeful snicker.

I roll my eyes at him. “Why don’t we just trust my brotherly intuition, okay?”

Mom still hesitates. “I don’t know…”

“I’m a brother, too, and my intuition ain’t tellin’ me nothing…” Troy reminds me.

“Okay, guys, if you’re so sure, then why not take bets on this?” I suggest boldly, absolutely certain I’ll win. “Losers get the winner a bar of chocolate.”

“ _Losers_ ,” Mom repeats with a chuckle, noticing I’ve gone with the plural form, implying it won’t be me. “Fine, bring it on!”

“Count me in, too,” Troy accepts as well.

“Cool,” I nod, confidently. “Winner gets to choose the flavor. And I demand white chocolate of you, Mom – you’re getting an easy one, since I don’t want to ask too much of a soon-to-be grandmother. As for you, honey… You’re a strong young man, ain’tcha? So a bit of a challenge should be fine. I demand peanut butter chocolate of you.”

“Peanut butter chocolate?” Troy repeats. “Where on earth am I supposed to get that?!”

“Well,” I shrug, shooting him a defiant grin. “There’s no time limit for this.” And adding a bit off-handedly, “It would be nice to get the chocolate while I still got my teeth, though…”

“Fine,” Troy counters, returning my look as he crosses his arms. “But if _we_ win, I demand dark chocolate with salted caramel of you.”

_Salted… what?!_

“And I’ll get a chocolate bar with strawberry mint filling,” Mom chips in, smile as smug as Troy’s.

All of a sudden, I find myself gulping. Dear God, what have I gotten myself into? _Now don’t you let me down, Jalicia!_

 

***

 

“You’re late,” Jake informs us first thing as he opens the door – oh, they’re a match made in heaven, our perfectionist siblings…

“Yeah, sorry…” us – the simple folks – apologize with guilty faces.

Jake however seems to have long forgotten about his own remark, beckoning us to come inside with a euphoric wave of his hand. “Come in, come in, dinner’s almost ready.”

Alicia appears next to him in the doorframe, whisk still in her hand.

“Hey, guys, you’re late!

Told you. Match made in heaven.

Inside, the room is quickly filled with a merry buzz and lots of laughter, the scent of the delicious food Alicia and Jake have prepared for us already filling the room.

Troy immediately sticks to Mom, narrating his leg’s history of woe in all extensiveness, while Alicia hurries back into the dining room to finish setting the table.

Neither wanting to bother Alicia nor being particularly keen on listening to Troy’s story for the thousandth time, I decide to keep Jake company, so I leisurely stroll into the kitchen, where Jake is in the middle of preparing our aperitif by unscrewing a bottle of red wine and filling the wine glasses.

We effortlessly engage in a bit of small talk, when I suddenly notice with particular interest that out of the five glasses on the counter he’s only filling three of them with actual wine. The remaining two contain cherry juice. I act as if I hadn’t noticed and keep on talking to him, but inside I can’t help grinning. So unless Troy managed to convert someone else to his alcohol abstinence, I’d say one of us is being forced to keep their hands off booze for an entirely different reason…

So understandably, there’s quite the feeling of joy and excitement surging over me as I rejoin Mom and Troy in the dining room, the hugest of grins on my face, so I guess they must immediately know something’s going on. They’re indeed just about to ask me, when right at this moment, Jake enters the room, handing out the drinks.

Alicia follows shortly after, and Mom is already about to raise her glass to toast to her daughter‘s birthday, when unexpectedly (not by me though), Jake joins his girlfriend by the door, wrapping his arm around her waist to pull her close.

“Actually,” he starts, letting his eyes roam over his guests, “there’s more for us to celebrate than just a birthday.”

Now I’m indeed failing to hide my grin any longer, especially as I feel Troy and Mom shooting me quick looks. I can’t help mimicking munching a few pieces of chocolate, because well, I’m mean like that…

Then Alicia takes a breath to speak and immediately, our eyes are on her, the girl who’s looking back at us with a radiant smile. Instinctively maybe, she puts her hand over her belly. “We’re,” she starts, putting her other arm around Jake, obviously deeply moved. “We’re having a baby.”

There is no holding back anymore as soon as she announces this. Immediately everyone’s on their feet (or cast, respectively) and there’s a lot of hugging, smiling and congratulating going on, Mom fighting back tears as she takes her daughter into her arms for at least five minutes before letting go of her again.

I have to admit, even though I objectively had the longest period to mentally prepare for this moment, actually _hearing_ it from their mouths is an entirely different thing. I guess I must have gotten something in my eyes, as when it’s my turn to wrap my arms around my sister, my eyes are suddenly all moist and teary.

A baby! My sister’s _actually_ having a baby! She’s gonna be a mom – my sweet little baby sister…

I catch her sniffle a little as well as she wraps her arms around me even tighter.

“This is the best news I’ve heard in all my life,” I whisper to her, burying my smile in her hair. “I wish you all the luck and happiness in the world.”

I notice she’s crying and smiling at the same time as we finally pull away and I’m struggling so hard to keep it together to shoot her my most cheerful smile. “I guess we’re really grown-up now, aren’t we?”

“Yeah,” she replies with a grateful smile, wiping tears from the corner of her eyes. “I guess we are…”

Meanwhile, Jake has moved around the table to get to his brother, who – thanks to the cast – is still standing right next to his chair, involuntarily glued to his spot like a stone statue.

And to my utter surprise – must be the hormones already – Troy even gets a hug by Alicia, who under normal circumstances wouldn’t even shake his hand with a reacher.

Eventually, we’re all gathered round the table, raising our glasses at the birthday as well as the happy, happy news – the second glass of cherry juice of course ending up in Alicia’s hands.

Standing next to Troy with my wine glass, I can’t help elbowing him in the ribs teasingly, as I point at his cherry juice.

“You pregnant, too?” I whisper to him, then, with a silly giggle, hastily evade his hands before he can reach me and counter my cocky remark with a clap on my head.

Safely out of his reach, I eventually grow serious again and as my eyes meet his, I can’t help shooting him a loving, blissful smile.

He returns it softly, beckoning me to come back to him, but as I do, I get that clap on my head after all. Yeah right… It’s okay, though. We’re even now.

So quickly he wraps his arm around me, pulling me close to him as we watch Mom and Jake enthusiastically put their hands on Alicia’s belly, insisting they felt a kick while she just rolls her eyes at them fondly, reminding them it’s only been a few weeks.

So with all of us together and these incredible, happy news, this night ends up one of the happiest nights of all of our lives.

 

***

 

Back at home later that night, I turn off the lights in the bathroom, blindly finding my way to the bedroom in the dark. With the bright full moon shining, that’s not much of a challenge after all – thanks to the roof hatch, the corridor is bathed in a gentle glow of silver.

Closing the door behind me, I climb into bed, immediately sliding over to Troy, who’s already lying there on his back, the foot in the plaster cast resting on a cushion just like Pam had recommended. His eyes however are still open. I notice him staring at the ceiling with a pensive look on his face.

Propping my head on my elbow, I gaze at him, trying to read him. “What is it?” I whisper eventually, worried a little by his brooding expression. “You suddenly don’t seem too happy for them anymore?”

“I _am_ happy for them,” Troy replies, eyes darting to me. “It’s just… I dunno… You seem so thrilled.”

“Yeah, of course, I’m thrilled,” I shrug. “My sister’s having a baby.” Holding his eyes. “Your brother is gonna be a _dad_! We’re gonna be _uncles_! That’s amazing!”

“You like kids,” he points out.

Chuckling. “I _love_ kids! Kids are adorable… They’re sweet and funny and always so blunt. They have their very own way of looking at the world, an innocent way, and that’s something we nowadays–“ Suddenly breaking off in the middle of my sentence, as I realize where Troy was actually going with this. “Troy,” I object, voice suddenly dark.

“No, no, it’s true,” he insists. “You would be an awesome dad.”

“Troy,” I call him once more.

“And I’m taking that opportunity from you…” Looking away.

“Troy,” I put my hand on his cheek, forcing his eyes back to me. “Don’t ever think that. My life is perfect, even though the world has ended. And that’s all thanks to you.” Leaning in to give him a kiss. “Besides, I could never be a dad.” Smirking. “I’m basically still a big baby myself!”

He gives me a weak chuckle at that.

“Seriously though,” I go on after a while, face serious again. “Don’t you see how incredibly lucky we are? This kid’s gonna be physically related to you as much as me. He or she is gonna resemble both of us. It’s gonna be as close to being our own kid as it could ever be. Name two other guys who actually have that kind of privilege.”

He holds my eyes for a long while, trying to figure out whether I’m genuine or not. “Is that really enough for you?”

“Enough for me?” I repeat, frowning. “Troy, we’re gonna have the best of that kid, the good parts only. We’ll be the cool, fun, awesome uncles, while our siblings have to change diapers and deal with all the sulkiness, the misbehaving, the constant bawling…” Nonchalantly playing with the hem of his sleeve. “We’re gonna have a great time. One family. I couldn’t wish for anything else.”

That seems to reassure him a little, as he shifts to face me more easily. “For real?”

“For real,” I confirm, smiling as I suddenly feel his lips on mine, the taste of peppermint toothpaste as he kisses me softly, his hand running through my hair.

“On the other hand, though,” I eventually whisper, kissing him back a little more teasingly, “just because they say two guys can’t have a kid, it doesn’t mean we shouldn’t keep trying, right?”

That gets him to snicker as I slowly sit up, moving on top of him.

“Careful with the cast,” he reminds me off-handedly.

I lean down to silence him with a not so tender kiss. “Why, I’m always careful, my angel.”

 

***

 

Turns out, the ranch doesn’t just have the birth of Alicia and Jake’s little kid to look forward to. As the icing on the cake, there’ll also be a wedding.

The reason for this however is rather rational than romantic. As far as we know, there was no Jake nervously getting down on his knees in front of Alicia, asking for her hand. Neither Jake nor Alicia have a particular high opinion of a formal wedding if there are no actual register offices or even just laws around anymore that would give legal meaning to the act.

It’s rather just a rational calculus that pushed them to this decision – by implication not caring about marriage also means not being opposed to it. And both Alicia and Jake knew that many of the more conservative people here at the ranch would greatly favor the young parents to be married before their child is born. So, “whatever,” as Jake put it with a shrug. “Gotta make some compromises to keep the peace!”

_Yeah, I hear you_ , I just thought to myself. I only wish _I_ was forced to marry Troy to keep the peace… In that regard, I certainly wouldn’t mind bearing their cross… _Oh well!_

On the bright side of all the “compromises”, this wedding quickly turns into a largely anticipated event everyone is looking forward to, taking care of little preparations or coming up with ideas to make their special day even more special and beautiful. I’m not surprised, after all, Jake and Alicia have always been some kind of dream couple here at the ranch, so their wedding is treated like some fancy Royal Wedding in the Old World.

Much to Troy’s and my displeasure, we’re informed that – with each of us being our sibling’s best man – there’s a valid chance we’ll both have to share a dance with the bride, so about one week before the big event, we both find ourselves in a last minute crash course dance lesson by Pam.

“Alright,” she starts as we’re standing in the middle of the room, facing each other rather uncomfortably. “We’ll go for a simple wedding waltz, so nothing too complicated.” She gives us an encouraging nod, then suddenly her smile turns into a mocking smirk. “So, who’s the woman in your relationship?”

Troy immediately frowns and rolls his eyes at her disapprovingly, while I just hold her eyes defiantly. “Well, wouldn’t you wanna know!”

She starts giggling at that, then shrugs. “You’ll both have to learn how to lead, so I don’t care who goes first.”

Since now that this question has been posed, either reaction from our side is bound to feel like an implied answer, I eventually volunteer to go for the female part first, putting my left hand on Troy’s shoulder – and indeed he stealthily shoots me a guilty but grateful look.

“Okay, good,” Pam comments nonchalantly. “Now, Troy, right hand on Nick’s back, left hand taking his. Yup, just like that.” Giving us the thumbs up. “Now, as for the steps. Man starts with his left foot: Left foot forward, side step to the right, closing step. Then right foot back, side step to the left, closing step. Simple, ain’t it?”

_Uhm…_

Probably noticing the blank looks in our eyes, she hastily adds, “Let’s just try it. I’m sure it will become clear in no time.” She moves to our side to get a better look at us. “Troy, you start. Left foot forward, side step, closing step. Right foot back, side step, closing step.”

Cool, this isn’t hard at all. I don’t really have to do anything, just mirror Troy’s steps. Piece of cake!

“And another round: Left foot forward, side, close. Right foot back, side, close…”

Oh, I could do this all day. Feels almost a little meditative…

“Very good,” Pam concludes. “Now try to go a little faster…”

Another round, even though I don’t notice any significant acceleration in Troy’s pace. The step sequence takes his full concentration.

Pam watches us with a skeptical face as Troy looks to her for feedback. “Just try it a bit faster,” she insists, adding under her breath: “If you go that slow, Alicia will be married and divorced again before you’ve even just finished your first round…”

I can’t help laughing gleefully.

“You’re enjoying this aren’t you?” Troy growls at her immediately. “Ordering me around for a change…”

“Hey,” she just shrugs. “It’s the little pleasures in life…”

“Okay, okay,” I but in quickly. “I’ll take the lead now.” Shooting Troy a defiant look. “Let me show you how it’s done.”

A little piqued, Troy gives me a huff, but goes along with it anyway, switching positions.

So let’s rock this party! I don’t wait for any instructions, but take a shot at it right away, yanking Troy around. After all, the sequence is super simple: Left foot forward, closing step, right foot back… uhm… Well, you know what I mean!

“There we go,” I say confidently, hastily regaining my balance after we nearly fell over each other. “That was super fast.”

Pam’s eyes are wide in disbelief. “Oh wow… Yeah, it _was_ super fast, but… Aside from that… I don’t even know what that was.”

“It was a little freestyle…” I admit.

“ _Freestyle_ , right…” Troy laughs at me. “Just admit it: You suck at this, Clark!”

“Oh, you’re the one who sucks at this, slowpoke!” I counter. “Not to mention you just stepped on my foot with your elephant weight! Like this!” Taking a lunge towards him.

“Hey!” he complains. “You were the one who stepped on my foot!” He’s trying to stomp on my feet in return.

A little brawl ensues and Pam sighs as she takes a peek at her watch.

 

At around half past six, the magic is finally done: Troy and I are actually able to perform a decent waltz at an acceptable pace (we’ll simply ignore the fact that Pam is just in the middle of pouring her third glass of whiskey…).

Needless to say, just because he mastered the waltz, Troy hasn’t exactly turned into some sophisticated Victorian gentlemen after just one afternoon of dance lessons. On the contrary.

“God, I really feel like zapping a bunch of rotting assholes right now…” he sighs once we’re back outside in the bright sunshine.

“Me too,” I agree with relief, stretching my arms. “Let’s head to the barracks and grab a few guns? The fence could use some cleaning anyway.”

He holds my eyes for a while, then smirks. “Have I ever told you that I love you?”

“Well, no need to hold back!” I reply with a laugh.

 

***

 

And then, finally, the big day has come.

Ever since the sun has started to set towards the horizon, you could feel the magic of anticipation all around: In the rustling of the wind in the grass gently swaying in the warm summer breeze, in the quiet chirping of the crickets, in the muffled conversations of the people, their voices somehow a little more quiet than usual, as if for some reason everyone had switched to the solemn whispering that goes with the pleasant excitement we all know from our childhood’s Christmas:  _Shush – or you might chase the magic away!_

Our little square at the center of the ranch has been decorated with dozens of lampions. The more the light of the day fades away, the brighter they start to glow, until the entire place is bathed in their beautiful, romantic light.

As the anticipated time draws closer, more people gather on the benches and chairs that have been carried here, forming an audience of several rows. Huge vases with beautiful flowers – white lilies and roses – have been put up as well, lining the aisle leading towards our makeshift altar.

I’m still standing in front of Mom’s house, nervously shifting from one leg to the other. On a small shelf next to the entrance, Mom has put a few cleaned pots to dry. I lean towards one of them to check my reflection in the scraped metal. I have to admit, I feel extremely uncomfortable in my suit, like a child dressed up for their confirmation. After all, if it hadn’t been for Mom, I would have never managed to succeed with that tie…

But I’ve decided to comb my hair back for the occasion, believing this gives me a more grown-up and subdued look than the more messy hairstyle. And it’s true: The person that looks back at me from the pots’ surface seems like a respectable grown-up man, fit to attend a wedding. He doesn’t really feel like _me_ , but I guess I can bear it for one night. After all, your sister isn’t getting married every day!

And then, suddenly, it’s time. The door opens and I hastily turn around. I don’t want them to catch me checking my mirror image – that would indeed hurt my reputation.

It’s Mom, the one joining me outside first, wearing a beautiful blue dress, suiting her blonde hair perfectly. I notice she’s wearing her own wedding ring – one of the keepsakes Alicia and Jake had retrieved on their trip back to our house almost two years ago – as well as the silver necklace Travis gave her for her birthday. The ones we loved and lost, I realize immediately, they’re all here with us tonight.

And then there she is. I catch myself holding my breath as Alicia appears in the doorframe. The nervousness apparent in her eyes, but there’s also joy and happiness and love – and it makes her shine like the sun.

She’s _beautiful_. I’ve never seen a bride this beautiful. The simple, white dress, the pinned-up hair, the red lipstick – it feels like ages since the last time I’ve seen her wearing make up like this and it makes her look strangely unfamiliar and grown-up… My baby sister… a gorgeous bride.

“Ready to go?” Mom asks me, that same kind of hushed voice everyone has been using today, the one not to interrupt the magic.

I nod at her, then turn my eyes to Alicia. “You look amazing, Alicia,” I can’t help telling my sister, earning me a shy, but happy smile, as I offer her my arm and she hooks hers into mine.

We’ve been thinking of who should lead Alicia down the aisle for a while, since the person who’d originally have been supposed to do this is not around anymore… First instinct would have been to say Mom should do it, but then again, if we’re looking at this through some really patriarchal eyes, me – as technically the male head of our family – would be an option as well.

In the end, we went for the only solution that actually feels _right_ to us: It’s just us left, the three of us, the Clark family. Inseparable.

We’re both leading Alicia down the aisle.

 

Approaching our decorated festival square, we hear the soft mumbling of the people waiting for us, a gentle buzzing noise, filling the square with joy and life.

No one notices us at first, so we stop for a moment, and Alicia’s grip tightens around my arm.

I give Alex a sign, and she nods back at me, then suddenly gets up from her chair at the side of the audience, and with a loud, clear and beautiful voice, she starts singing:

_“Never knew I could feel like this…”_

The mumbling dies down immediately, all eyes darting to her.

Alex’s eyes meet Alicia’s, and she smiles, before going on:

_“Like I’ve never seen the sky before…”_

Some of the people in the audience start taking glances over their shoulders as well, curious to catch a first glimpse at the bride.

I put my other hand on Alicia’s, then the three of us start walking.

_“Wanna vanish inside your kiss…”_

Now everyone gets up from their seats, turning around to look at us, greeting us with smiles and nods, and they all marvel as their gazes come to rest on the bride.

The familiar people, our family, our home. And among them even a few guests who came here just for this occasion: Victor, as well as Ofelia and Walker, nodding encouragingly at Alicia.

_“Everyday I love you more and more…”_

We’ve reached the aisle now, our path suddenly giving way to the altar – and Jake, all handsome in his suit, raises his head and turns around, eyes widening as he spots Alicia.

That’s Liam’s cue – he joins in with his guitar, Alex’s voice growing more powerful.

_“Listen to my heart, can you hear it sing? Tellin’ me to give you everything…”_

Alicia raises her head and their eyes meet, a melancholic look at first, then she gives him a loving smile and his eyes light up like the sun – the moment so sweet and heartwarming, the guests respond with a round of applause.

_“Seasons may change, winter to spring.”_

With a blissful smile on his face, Jake now steps to his designated spot in front of the altar, suddenly revealing Troy, who – as his best man – has been standing right next to him. And now it’s my turn to marvel.

_“But I love you, until the end of time. Come what may…”_

I’ve never seen him like this, all dressed up in suit and tie, the hair neatly groomed. Like this, in the light of the lampions, his skins seems paler, the hair, eyes and beard darker than usual, gaze almost a little shy as his eyes meet mine… God, he’s so handsome, it takes my breath away.

_“Come what may…”_

For a moment, the world disappears around us – just like it must be for Alicia and Jake – and suddenly there’s only us, him and me, all that matters in this world. For one blissful thought, it feels like I was walking down the aisle on my own wedding, approaching that one person that means the world to me, the one destined for me.

He must think the same. I can see the emotion in his eyes, how deeply he’s moved by this very moment. He shoots me a heartfelt smile – and I return it.

_“I will love you, until my dying day.”_

Still holding his eyes as Alex sings those lines, I nod at him softly. It’s true. It so is. I will – with all my heart.

_“Oh, come what may… come what may…”_

We’re at the altar now, Jake reaching for Alicia. She stops, giving Mom and me a grateful smile and we let go of her, Mom touching her shoulder one last time, before taking a few steps back and sitting down in the front row of the audience.

I give her an encouraging look, then I also turn away, taking my position next to the altar.

_“I will love you…”_

Alicia puts both of her hands into Jake’s and with a long, loving gaze, he leads her to the spot by his side, as Alex finishes the refrain with all the power in her voice.

_“Until my dying day…!”_

The audience breaks into a long round of applause, then, eventually, the ceremony starts.

 

Turns out, Troy’s dancing lessons totally paid out: Even though the Troy/Alicia dance never happens (I guess that would have overstretched their sympathies after all), he does succeed in talking Mom into granting him a dance (whereas I’d always thought he was the one vulnerable to her motherly charms, turns out he knows how to play his cards with her just as well… Geez, their weird dynamics!).

Unfortunately, I’m not as lucky as him when it comes to getting a chance to put my hard-earned dancefloor skills on display, since as soon as it’s my turn to have a dance with the bride, they switch to a really slow song, so in the end all we do is sway to the music.

Eventually, Alicia leans her head against my shoulder and I can sense how tired she actually is from all the exhaustion of her grand day.

“Hey, Nick…” she whispers softly.

“Hm?” I look down at her, cradling her in my arms.

There’s a melancholic look on her face, I notice that right away, even though she doesn’t directly meet my eyes. “Doesn’t it sometimes send a shiver down your spine as well, thinking of how far we’ve come, considering the people we used to be? I mean, just a few years ago, I spent my lunch breaks with Matt, and all we had to worry about was the next math test…” She takes a shallow breath. “Now I spend my days treating injuries people suffered while fighting walking corpses. I’m married to a man I hadn’t even known back then and now, in just a few months, I’m gonna be a mom… It’s just…” Her voice grows quiet again. “I wonder what Dad’d think of us… If he could see us now.”

“I think he’d be surprised,” I reply immediately. “He’d be proud to see we’re the ones still standing. And…” A smile now curving my lips. “He’d be happy for us, seeing we’ve managed to build ourselves a life here… A future. Seeing us happy.” And just as I say this, I realize her tone of voice doesn’t really fit with what I just claimed. So I look at her, frowning. “You _are_ happy, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I’m happy,” she whispers, and this time’s there’s actually a soft, but exhausted smile curving her lips. “Of course I am. I’ve just married the most wonderful man in the world… My family and friends are right here with me…” For a second, her eyes meet Ofelia’s, who’s dancing next to us with Walker. She shoots her friend a smile, and Ofelia returns it. “Even the family I don’t know yet,” she goes on, one of her hands trailing to her belly. “This is a magical day.”

I can’t help smiling as another thought crosses my mind. And as I don’t reply, she breaks away from my shoulder and raises her eyes to catch a glimpse at my face.

“What?” she demands, confused by my smirk.

“There’s your answer.”

“My answer?” She blinks.

“You were wondering whether it’s irresponsible to have kids in our New World,” I remind her. “It isn’t. Not as long as there’s happiness, not as long as there’s goodness around. Not as long as there’s magical days like this.”

She holds my eyes for a long while.

I nod. “And were gonna make sure there’ll be plenty of those for our little one.”

 

***

 

One day, seven months later – on January 11th, 2014, Troy and I are on patrol far outside the ranch, when all of sudden we notice one of our pickups approaching, Coop and Alex waving at us energetically.

With squealing tires, they stop right in front of us, hopping out of the car.

“You need to get back to the ranch, ASAP!” Coop informs us immediately. “Alicia had the baby!”

For a moment, there’s silence.

Then Troy and I burst into laughter.

“Nice try, guys!” I grin, pointing at them with my finger. “She’s not due till the 20th.”

Strangely, aside from us, no one’s laughing.

“She went into labor in the morning,” Alex tells us and her eyes seem so sincere, we’re starting to have our doubts this is a prank. “We’re here to take your shift.”

Troy blinks at her, then turns to Coop. “Seriously now?”

The bald man nods.

Alex – suddenly amused by our disbelief – starts laughing. “Why the hell are you still standing around like that? There’s someone waiting to meet you.”


	3. The One Who Survives the End of the World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, thank you so much for your comments and sweet words on the first chapter!! I'm so happy to hear the beginning of this new arc turned out alright and set a good basis for what's to come :)  
> I promised a kid!fic, so I'd say it's finally time for the baby to enter the stage! Let's see how Troy's doing, taking his first baby steps with a baby :)  
> Hope you'll enjoy!
> 
> (On a side note, I'm absolutely thrilled the amazing [Cudzinec](https://cudzinec.deviantart.com/) took the time to bring one of the moments of this fic to life with her amazing skills: The [kiss on the watchtower](https://cudzinec.deviantart.com/art/The-Grand-Cause-748909668) scene from chapter 5. Check it out if you have a minute, it's absolutely gorgeous!!!)

Any fans of The Fast and the Furious around?

Picture one of those action scenes with Paul Walker and Vin Diesel in a car, engaging in a crazy chase with one of the bad guys, going at ridiculous speed, the car basically flying over the occasional bump on the road as they cut curves with squealing tires.

Yup, that’s how we’re making our way back to the ranch after Coop and Alex delivered the happy news. Except I’m no Vin Diesel and Troy isn’t exactly Paul Walker either. We’re just two average guys, so you can imagine what our ride looks like in real life… Significantly less cool and aesthetic, but all the more shaky, tedious and nausea-inducing. But hey, we make it back in one piece, and that’s enough of a reason to celebrate.

“She wasn’t due until the 20th!” I keep repeating over and over again, expression worried as I cling to my seatbelt. The baby was born early. “Two weeks...” I shoot Troy an uneasy look. “Do you think that’s bad?”

“How should I know?” Troy counters quickly, eyes focusing on the road. “I have zero experience with childbirth.” Realizing this isn’t exactly what I needed to reassure me, he hastily adds with a shrug: “But common sense tells me that with an average pregnancy time of 40 weeks, two weeks more or less shouldn’t make that much of a difference, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” I reply slowly. “I guess so.”

We’re passing the ranch gate now and apparently the news have already spread:  Jimmy and Cory (who are on guard duty today) greet us with merry “Congratulations!”, before closing the gates behind us.

Thinking of that reaction for a moment, Troy shoots me another look as we approach the buildings and trailers. “Besides,” he points out, “if there’d actually been any complications, don’t you think Coop and Alex would have told us? Don’t you think the others would be a bit more subdued? But everyone seems so happy and cheerful. I’m sure everything went fine.”

That actually does make sense, and I finally feel myself relax a little as Troy steers the pickup down the road leading to our house.

Of course, there is just no way in hell we could have gone to welcome our little nephew or niece the way we look right now, after an entire morning of patrol: with muddy skin and blood-stained fatigues. So even though at least as far as I’m concerned, I can’t wait another second to meet the little one, we don’t really have a choice but to take a little break first, change into fresh clothes and wash our hands and faces.

Once we’re finally ready, we head to the infirmary on foot. The closer we get however, the more overwhelming my nervousness and excitement seem to get. Yes, in my heart I’m still praying that everything went fine and Alicia and the baby are alright. I’m dying to meet the little kid! And finally find out the answer to the one big question that’s been thrilling me for weeks: Is it a boy or a girl?

After all, there’s so much depending on that! Are we gonna spend our next years playing with dolls and visiting the horses, or are we gonna race matchbox cars and build the Lego police station? Not saying that a girl couldn’t or shouldn’t play with matchbox cars, or a boy couldn’t or shouldn’t care about dolls. I’m all for gender neutral parenting – but I’m strictly talking statistic probabilities here, nothing more, nothing less. Cause after all, chances might indeed be a little bit higher we end up watching all episodes of Bob the Builder with a boy instead of binging My Little Pony, and vice-versa.

I don’t have any preferences, seriously not. Truth be told, I’ve prepared for either option: I can proudly confirm I’ve diligently studied the names of all of Bob’s tools during the course of the last months, just as the names of all the ponies.

So the only question remaining is: Will there be a mini Alicia toddling around the ranch soon, or much rather a mini Jake? The rest of our family already knows. We’re the only ones left in the dark.

I’ve been babbling about the ifs and whens of the baby’s gender most of the way, not even realizing that Troy’s grown suspiciously quiet, the occasional “huh” and “hmmh” the only way he reacts to my considerations.

“What is it?” I eventually ask, shooting him a concerned look. “You nervous?”

He blinks at me, as if I’d just woken him from a dream, but hastily cracks a smile. “Yeah, a little,” he confesses.

I give him an encouraging smile, even though it didn’t escape me how his reply seemed somewhat fake. I get the impression the real reason for his silence is something entirely different, something he doesn’t want to admit, so he was just all too happy to accept the explanation I so conveniently handed to him on a silver platter.

I wonder what it is. It couldn’t be the baby itself, could it? He’s been looking forward to the day of our little nephew’s or niece’s birth as much as anyone… Or at least that’s what he’d claimed… But why would he…

Well, whatever it is, I’m sure his reluctance will be wiped away as soon as he holds the little kid in his arms for the first time. Because no doubt about it, that’s gonna be a magical moment for all of us!

I don’t get the chance to dwell on this any longer though, since as soon as we turn around the corner and the infirmary comes into sight, Mom spots us and happily hurries towards us.

“Mom!” I greet her immediately, unable to conceal my emotion any longer as I see the sparkle in her eyes.

“Hey, honey,” she replies softly, immediately wrapping her arms around me before moving on to Troy to hug him as well. “Congratulations, to both of you.”

“Congratulations to you, too, Grandma,” I counter quickly, then almost hold my breath as I shoot her a nervous look. The moment of truth has come. “So, everything went well? Alicia’s alight?”

“Alicia and the kid are fine,” she confirms with a nod and only hearing it from her mouth finally gets me to let out a sigh of relief. “She’s asleep now,” Mom explains. “Let her rest.”

“Jake here as well?” Troy wants to know, and Mom nods once more. “Inside, with the baby.”

At that, Troy’s immediately about to hurry off to meet his brother, when I don’t move to join him, but hold my breath instead, slowly posing the one question that may or may not change everything. “Boy or girl?”

Mom grins at me as I ask this, then chuckles secretively.

“Come on!” I protest. “I’ve already been patient for nine months.”

She realizes I’m right and I deserve to be relieved from this oppressing uncertainty. So eventually her grin melts into a smile. “You’re uncles to a little nephew. I have a grandson.”

It takes a few beats for the realization to sink in. As soon as it does, however, there’s no holding back anymore as a huge wave of joy surges over me. “Troy!” I call out, eyes shining with excitement as I turn around to meet my boyfriend’s eyes. He’s heard it. Looking back at me with a smile, his expression must be a mirror image of my own. So if this means it’s gonna be Matchbox cars, the Lego police station and Bob the Builder, so be it! I’m ready, bring it on!

 

As soon as we finally enter the infirmary, we spot Jake sitting on one of the cots, cradling a small bundle in his arms. He doesn’t seem to notice us at first, apparently only having eyes for his little son.

Troy raises his eyebrows at me and I grin back at him – we’re both thinking the same: This is a moment to remember. Full of excitement to finally see the little kid, we approach him.

“Congratulations, Jake!” I call eventually, getting Jake to raise his eyes, then however I immediately lower my voice, realizing the baby might be asleep.

“Nick, Troy!” Jake greets us with a smile, voice quiet indeed. “You’re finally here!”

“We came as soon as we heard the news,” Troy replies, then shoots Jake a long, meaningful look. “Congratulations, brother,” he says, and for the first time – seeing Jake holding the baby – he seems truly moved. He catches his brother in a slightly awkward one-armed hug, careful not to scare or hurt the baby.

I smile as I pat the brand new dad on the shoulder.

“By the way, you look like shit,” Troy can’t help commenting with a smirk – and I have to admit, he does have a point: Face flushed, skin sweaty and eyes tired, Jake looks totally beat. “And I’d actually assumed it was Alicia who bore the child,” Troy teases. “Silly me…”

“Oh, shut up,” Jake growls back at this, but lets out a quick, good-natured chuckle nevertheless. “Childbirth is one hell of a roller coaster ride for a father, I tell you… At least I didn’t faint… much…” He grins back at us self-mockingly, then smiles at the baby. “I’m just glad that little fellow is finally here with us…”

“Can we see him?” I call immediately, so excited to finally  catch a glimpse at our nephew.

“Of course,” Jake nods, then tilts the bundle towards us. “Look who’s here…” he tells the baby with a high-pitched voice. “Your uncles!”

Aww, he’s cute! The cutest thing I’ve ever seen. Wearing a little cap and tiny gloves, his eyes are still closed as he lies there sleeping with quick, shallow breaths, safely and comfortably in his daddy’s arms.

“Okay…” Troy murmurs eventually. “Has two eyes, a nose and a mouth… Seems fully functional, I guess.”

Oh, this is such a Troy thing to say – I can’t help rolling my eyes fondly. At least at the very core of what he tried to express, he’s right: The baby indeed looks like a healthy little fellow. So, “Yup,” I agree with a nod. “I have to say, Jake, you did an excellent job.” Giving him a chummy clap on the back.

“Thanks,” Jake replies with a crooked grin, then adds a bit sheepishly, “Even though I feel a bit bad taking credit for it, since my contribution here was neither troublesome nor unpleasant…”

At that, I can’t help laughing. “Yeah, I figured…”

And for the first time, the baby now moves a little, yawning heartily, before going back to sleep.

Jake and I melt immediately; Troy on the other hand keeps up the skeptical look.

“So, does he have a name yet?” I want to know immediately, raising my eyes at Jake expectantly.

“No,” Jake replies with a smirk.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll come up with something,” I shrug, and strangely, this gets Jake to snicker – even though I have no idea why. There was nothing funny about what I just said… Well, let’s just blame the fatherly exhaustion!

I would have had the chance to ask even if I wanted to, since right at that moment, Mom peeks in from the back room – probably where Alicia’s resting. She waves at Jake. “Alicia’s awake now. Do you wanna see her?”

Jake’s eyes immediately light up as he hears this, then he turns to me. “Could you hold him for a moment?”

_Hell yeah! Thought you’d never ask!_ _Gimme, gimme, gimme!_ I think immediately, on the outside however keeping up my cool demeanor. “Uhm, sure… I’ll try…”

“Careful…” Jake murmurs as he hands the baby over to me. “Careful with the head.”

“Yeah, I got it, Jake,” I tell him immediately. “You’re not the only one with a younger sibling, you know…”

That seems to reassure him a little as he shoots me a grateful smile and hurries over to Mom. “Thanks! I’ll be back in a second, promise.”

“No need to hurry!” I call after him, cause honestly, I’d be _so_ disappointed if he came back in just a few seconds and interrupted my long-awaited nephew moment all too soon.

Then the door closes behind him, and finally there’s just the two of us left – _three_ , of course, sorry!

And with a blissful face, I look down at the newborn baby in my arms. “Oh my God,” I whisper, totally overwhelmed by this wave of happiness that suddenly surges over me. That little, adorable being lying there peacefully in my arms, he’s actually my sister’s child, our responsibility. “I can’t believe it… My nephew…” Correcting myself as I raise my eyes to Troy. “ _Our_ nephew!! Can you believe it… It’s amazing…”

Troy returns my look with a smile – one that still doesn’t seem too genuine though –, and agrees with a nod: “Yeah, amazing.”

The baby yawns again, this time even slightly opening his eyes, before immediately closing them shut again.

“Oh wow, did you just see that?” I call excitedly. “Ice-blue… Exactly like Jake’s!! Oh my God, I can’t believe it! I mean, just look at him! That mouth, that nose! He totally looks like your brother!”

“Well,” Troy replies casually, that skeptical frown still on his face, “if you picture Jake grimacing while biting on a lemon slice and blowing little bubbles of foam with his mouth while dozing off, then yeah. I guess there _is_ a resemblance.”

“Troy,” I call him, this time actually a bit reproachfully. Alright, that’s it. I’d say it’s time for him to actually feel the magic! I’m sure that’ll get him to warm up to that little fellow. “Hold him,” I suggest, making an inviting gesture, but Troy just shies away.

“I’m good, thanks.”

“Come on,” I push. “He’s your little nephew!”

“That’s not my fault,” Troy counters, and for a moment I can’t help wondering who’s _actually_ the little baby here.

I frown. “What’s gotten into you all of a sudden?” I ask him outright. “I thought you were looking forward to this moment as well!”

“I _was_ ,” he assures me. “It’s just…” Shaking his head. “I’m not really good with kids… So I’m okay with you holding him and me just looking at him.”

“Come on!” I call once more. “Troy Otto, the one who’s fought hordes of walking corpses, is scared of a little baby?”

“I’m not _scared_ ,” he corrects me immediately. “I’m just– Woah, Nick!!”

I didn’t give him a chance to finish, but without any further ado put the baby in his arms.

“There we go,” I say contently. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Holy shit!! He’s so gonna start crying…” Troy hisses, staring at the bundle in his arms like it was some lethal piece of radwaste.

“He’s _asleep_ ,” I point out dryly. “So as long as you don’t exactly drop him…”

Troy doesn’t react to that, doesn’t laugh at the joke or counter anything. He’s just staring at the kid, like he didn’t even hear me. Magical moment happening after all?

“He’s so light,” Troy eventually whispers, disbelieving. “A package of flour is heavier.”

I can’t help smiling, watching him take his first little baby steps with the baby. I know he’s gonna make it. I believe in him. He will open up to that little guy, I’m convinced. After all, that’s also how he opened up to me: Slowly, reluctantly, with so many detours. But in the end, with all his heart.

“Talk to him,” I suggest with an encouraging smile.

Troy shakes his head, raising his eyes at me. “What should I say?”

Chuckling once more. “Anything you want. You’re meeting him for the first time, so greet him.”

He looks back at the baby.  A few moments of silence. Then he says curtly: “Hello.”

Weeeell, we can work with that… Leaning in to the baby, I softly stroke his cheek with my finger. It’s warm and smooth as satin. “Hello, my little angel,” I start, voice high pitched and soft. “It’s so very nice to meet you! We’ve been looking forward to you being born so badly. I’m your uncle Nick, and this handsome fellow over here is Troy. He’s also your uncle.”

That at least earns me a fond snort from Troy.

As for the baby though, apparently the fuss and the unfamiliar voices are starting to upset him a little. He suddenly moves in Troy’s arm, accompanied by a quick, whimpering sound.

Troy immediately winces and it’s obvious that dropping the bundle would be his preferred reaction.

I got a better idea. “Rock him,” I suggest, then however – because this is _Troy_ after all and that indeed gives me second thoughts – I quickly add: “Gently though…”

He does as he’s been told and indeed the baby calms down again.

Seeing him like this, cradling his little nephew in his arms, I feel a strange warmth in my heart. I know I’m smiling softly as I try to memorize that very moment, a moment I’ll always treasure in my heart. Us, becoming a real family. That little baby is the living, breathing union of the Ottos and the Clarks. And in that regard, also of Troy and me. So no matter what the future brings, through him, we’ll forever be one.

“See,” I eventually point out amicably. “You’re destined to be an uncle.”

As if to prove me wrong though – and probably sensing Troy’s insecurity –, the baby starts shifting in his arms some more, followed by another noise that indeed does sound like a pre-stage of crying.

“Nick…!” Troy calls me with raising panic, the lack of composure in his voice however only fueling the baby’s unease. So to be honest, right at that moment, it’s hard to tell which one of those two seems more uncomfortable in the other one’s presence…

Well, I guess I’ve tortured Troy long enough with this for one day, so I eventually decide to deliver them both from their misery, taking the baby back into my arms.

“Shush, sweetie, it’s alright…” Now rocking him gently just like I advised Troy, just like I used to do with Alicia when she was little, softly talking to the baby. “Yeah, yeah, it’s alright… Everything’s alright…”

And indeed, that’s all it took for the baby to calm down again. Troy would have been able to do that, too. And I know he will. Someday. For now, however, the little one is going back to sleep in my arms.

“That’s right, there’s nothing to worry about…” I murmur softly. “Nothing at all. We’re here for you. Your family. Always…” My eyes suddenly growing a little distant. “You know, you weren’t exactly born in the easiest of times, little one,” I admit slowly, “and I can’t promise you there’ll never be any pain for you to suffer… But if it’s within our power, we’ll do anything to keep the darkness at bay.” My voice now a mere whisper. “And if it can’t be fought off after all, we’ll stand by you to face it – hand in hand and side by side. That’s what I promise you.”

I mean it, from the bottom of my heart, and even though the little baby didn’t understand any of it, I hope he can feel the bond my wish creates between us, a bond, that will stay with him for all of his life.

A few moments later, I blink, my thoughts returning to reality, and as I raise my eyes, I notice Troy staring at me with an unreadable expression. Solemn, admiring, but also a little bit dejected.

I’m just about to open my mouth to say something to him, when right at that moment, Jake returns from the adherent room.

Now that he’s spoken to Alicia, he seems a lot more reassured and happy, and his joy and excitement immediately light the room. “How’s my little boy doing?”

“Great,” I reply, handing the baby back to his dad with a grin. “How’s the mother doing?”

Jake smiles down at his son with a blissful expression, then he shoots me a glance. “Well, why don’t you see for yourself?”

 

I don’t have to be told twice. Apparently, it’s sibling time now, since as I hurry off to see my sister, Troy stays with his brother, immediately demanding to hear the whole chronology of the day from him, to properly document the events in his diary.

I can’t help smiling to myself at this. Facts and observations – Troy’s back in his comfort zone. And yeah, he deserves it!

My sister is sitting on one of the cots in the backroom of the infirmary, propped up against a pillow in her back, Mom on a chair next to her daughter. As soon as the two women spot me, Mom gets up from her chair, making way for me to sit down, and heads to the other room to join the brothers.

Alicia’s eyes meet mine and with just one smile, everything is said between us. I don’t waste a second to come over to her, pulling her into a heartfelt embrace.

“I’m so proud of you,” I whisper to her softly. “So incredibly proud.”

I feel her nod, even though she doesn’t reply – judging by the way she looked at me, she probably fears that any words might just come out as an uncontrollable sob.

“How are you feeling?” I ask as I eventually let go of her again and sit down on the chair next to the cot. She’s – to be honest – in no better condition than Jake: hair disheveled, face sweaty, skin pale. But the sparkle in her eyes leave no doubt about the joy and relief she must be feeling at this very moment.

“Well, this isn’t something I’d be too keen on doing every day…” she replies sarcastically, indeed wiping a tear from her eyes. “But, I’m good,” she eventually assures me with a determined nod. “I’m happy.”

“Me too,” I reply immediately, rubbing her arm gently. “Jake’s already introduced us to the little one.”

A fond smile curves her lips.

“Any ideas on the name yet?” I ask casually. To be honest, I hadn’t really expected an answer, but to my utter surprise, Alicia nods at me.

“Yup, that’s already been settled.”

“Really?” I ask, puzzled. “’Cause I literally just asked Jake the same question a minute ago and he said no.” And adding under my breath: “You apparently have bigger communication issues than Troy and me at times…”

Alicia however just chuckles merrily at this. “He told you the name, silly.”

“He did?” I blink, absolutely certain he didn’t mention any names. What is this? The Da Vinci code?

“ _No_ ,” she repeats, stressing the word.

“ _No_?” I repeat, baffled. “You’ve named your kid _No_?” Shaking my head vehemently, actually feeling quite the disappointment sink in. “Well, I’m all for unconventional names and stuff, Frodo, Anakin – you name it… But… why didn’t you at least call him _Yes_?”

Bursting into laughter at this, Alicia immediately winces, the pain from the birth apparently still there. She manages to shoot me a crooked grin nevertheless, then looks at me fondly. “Noah. His name is Noah.”

“Noah…” I repeat, relief and amusement simultaneously mixing into a smirk as I finally get it. Thank God! I’d honestly started to fear the worst… “Oh, Noah’s sweet, I love it.”

Her eyes beam at me with joy and happiness as I say this, but I can’t help adding with a shrug: “Even though that nickname is bound to cause some _serious_ confusion.”

“No,” Alicia repeats and here we go already: I have no idea whether she just contradicted me or simply repeated the nickname. Realizing this was actually her intention, I frown. “You just bore a child and you’re already back to being a jerk.”

“I’ve never stopped – I’m capable of multitasking,” she insists good-naturedly, and I chuckle happily, as I wrap my arms around her once more, giving her a quick kiss on the head. It’s good to have this conversation, really good. Reassuring both of us that even though everything has changed, nothing _really_ changed.

“I’m still impressed, I have to admit,” I say eventually, letting go of her once again. “My atheist sister, choosing a biblical name for her kid? Jake’s idea, I assume?”

“It was my idea,” Alicia shrugs. “I may not believe in God, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t accept Noah’s Ark as a story like any other story, with a message and a moral.” She looks back at me. “Those characters in the story were also facing the End of the World, just like we are now in reality. And of all those people living there in the story, Noah didn’t just resign himself to his fate. He took matters into his own hands, and no matter the chances, he started building that ark. Not just to save himself, but also to save his family.”

My heart clenches a little as I realize where she’s going with this.

Alicia purses her lips, then says after a few blinks: “Noah was the one who survived the End of the World. With everyone he loved. That’s what I want for my son.”

Holding her eyes for a long while, I nod, deeply touched. “It’s perfect, Alicia. Absolutely perfect.”

“Yeah? I don’t know…” She shrugs. “Does that even make sense?” Looking at me with hopeful eyes.

“No,” I reply, and for a moment she actually falls for that same joke I fell for as well earlier, only realizing what’s going on once I start grinning and continue the sentence, “will one day be very proud to hear his name is not just a name, but actually a beautiful wish his family made for him.”

 

*** Troy ***

 

I don’t have anything against children. Honestly, I don’t.

I just don’t get the fuss that’s being made over them. ‘Cause let’s be honest: They’re basically just unfinished versions of future people. So sooner or later we have to face it: That little baby won’t be of any use for us or the community for at least the next fourteen or fifteen years. Until then: _nada_.

I mean, just take an unripe pear for example. We all know it’s gonna be super tasty and sweet one day, but for now it’s still hard and bitter. So at least as far as I’m concerned, I don’t have to waste my time prowling around that very pear day after day, pampering it and talking to it, and fantasizing about how great it’s gonna be to enjoy it one day. That won’t make the pear any sweeter. And it certainly won’t make it ripen any faster.

Of course I’m aware this is not actually a fruit we’re talking about here, but my brother’s kid. I understand he loves him very much – of course he does. We all do. Nick especially. So naturally Jake and Nick don’t share my views on this in the slightest. They’re crazy about rechecking on the pear all the time to see if _maybe_ it has already ripened at least a tiny little bit – compared to like five minutes ago. I know I’m expected to display that same kind of enthusiasm, so of course I do my best on joining in on this – if it makes my brother and my boyfriend happy, no problem.

If it were just me, though, I’d rather wait those fourteen years and then get the real, sweet and juicy pear-deal.

It isn’t just me, though, so rather than fourteen years, it only takes about three months until it falls to us to waste – sorry, spend – our time on babysitting. Well, I guess it was to be expected that the kid would sooner or later be dumped on us. Took them long enough to take us up on Nick’s continued offer anyway. Even though they keep saying they didn’t have a choice today: Jake was out to help repair a broken water pipe, when Alicia got called in to the infirmary for an emergency. And since Madison is still in the middle of giving her classes this morning…

It’s true: The devil always takes the hindmost.

Just what the hell is taking Nick so long? Honestly, it can’t be that complicated to warm a bottle of milk, can it?!

With every passing second I’m more and more getting the feeling he’s slacking on purpose to keep me in this awkward situation for as long as possible. _Awkward situation_ meaning my being doomed to endure the relentless stare of a three months old baby sitting in his infant carrier seat on the couch opposite me.

Looking away on purpose, I burry my chin in my hand, elbow resting on the armchair, praying for Nick to finally return and deliver me from this hell.

Shooting Noah a stealth look from the corner of my eye, I notice he keeps staring at me, minute after minute, like I was some sort of world wonder to gape at. Seriously! Won’t he ever grow tired of this?!

Very well, then, my friend. You asked for this! In an attempt to stage a counter move, I suddenly lock my eyes back to him – but instead of averting his gaze in return, he just keeps staring at me, as mesmerized as before, until in the end – involuntarily – the one ending up dropping his gaze is me.

You gotta be kidding me! Doesn’t that baby have any manners? I mean it’s so impolite to stare at people like that! It makes them feel uncomfortable!

Shooting him another, disapproving glance, I growl as his eyes are still blissfully fixed on me.

“You’re rude,” I hiss at him eventually, keeping my voice as low as possible to make sure Nick won’t accidentally hear me. “You’re a very, very rude baby, you know that?” I scold Noah. “Now stop looking at me like that.”

Actually addressing him however, ends up achieving quite the opposite. It gets him to give me a quick squeak as he moves in his seat, kicking his legs once, his tiny, tiny legs with the tiny, tiny socks.

That only gets me to snort. “Pff, come _on_! You think you’re so cute, don’t you? Think you can get to me like that, huh?” Leaning forward a little to stress my point, “Well, here’s news for you: That’ll never. Work. On me.”

_Excellent!_ I lean back with a smug smile, satisfied that I’ve finally made myself clear – when all of a sudden I notice with shock that Noah’s still staring at me, and even worse! Now he’s also smiling – apparently mimicking my expression. And like it or not, it’s one hell of a radiant smile.

Miffed, I feel the corners of my mouth drop in an instant – just to witness with rising disgruntlement Noah growing serious again as well.

You gotta be kidding me! Is he actually parroting me? Or was that merely a coincidence just now? I’m not even sure he’s able to read anyone’s facial expressions yet in the first place. Or is he?

It keeps bugging me, honestly, and I realize if I want to find out the truth I don’t really have a choice. Making every effort, I force myself to shoot him another grin for testing purposes – and indeed, he starts smiling once more, eyes now practically shining with happiness as he kicks joyfully, this time even letting out a quick, squeaky laugh.

“Hush!!” I hiss at him immediately, giving him a scolding look. “Nick’ll hear you.”

Even though he certainly didn’t get that, he grows quiet again, returning to his neutral gaze.

Geez. What have I gotten myself into here? I hold his eyes for a long time, battling him in a staring contest. And this time, I’m actually hell-bent on emerging victorious, when all of a sudden and much to my utter consternation, I actually catch myself smiling at him once more – What the hell?! Why did I just do that?! I didn’t mean to!! –, causing him to laugh happily in return.

“Alright, fine,” I growl eventually, resigning. “But don’t you dare tell anyone about it…”

“Oh, I’m sure he won’t,” a voice comes from the kitchen door. “Me on the other hand…”

I wince immediately as I turn around.

Nick is leaning in the doorframe, grinning back at me with a smirk, the milk bottle in his hands.

“Oh, please, go on. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Interrupt?” I repeat, playing innocent. “What would you be interrupting on?”

Nick pushes himself off the doorframe, strolling towards us nonchalantly. “Oh, I dunno. Maybe a sweet little moment proofing that Troy ‘I don’t like babies’ Otto isn’t immune to his little nephew’s charms either?”

“Charms?” I repeat with a huff. “Oh, _please_. He and I, we don’t get along _at all_.”

“No?” he replies curiously, then shrugs. “Because it sure seemed like you were basically playing peek-a-boo with him just now.”

Snorting at the absurdity, I lean back into my armchair, crossing my arms before my chest. “I was just making fun of him and he didn’t even get it.”

“ _Of_ course,” Nick gives me the ironic version of an affirmative nod, then lets himself drop on the sofa next to Noah, holding the bottle to him. “While in truth, you were making fun of _him_ , weren’t you,” he whispers to Noah conspiratorially. “And he didn’t even get it.”

Noah replies with a happy squeak – even though it’s more than obvious he’s just excited to finally be allowed to dig in.

Nick on the other hand naturally reads this as an affirmation. “Of course you were!” he agrees merrily, hand stroking over Noah’s head, as the baby reaches for the bottle. “You’re my nephew after all!”


	4. Uncle Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, thank you so much for your sweet comments on the last chapter!  
> Hope you'll enjoy more of Troy bonding with his little nephew :)

*** Nick ***

Today’s a big day for us! For the very first time ever, Noah will be staying a full afternoon with us. Meaning: I finally get my long-awaited chance to actually spend some proper time with my sweet nephew and put it to the test what awesome an uncle I actually am.

Alicia and Jake have volunteered to head out for a supply run, as ever since Noah’s birth fourteen months ago – and for Alicia even since the pregnancy – they haven’t really been outside the ranch much or gotten a chance to contribute by securing any resources for the community. Of course, everyone needs a change of scenery once in a while, so it’s just all too understandable they’re longing for a little break from the stressful parenting business.

Needless to say, I’ve already been super excited all day, basically spending the entire morning by the kitchen window, keeping my eyes open for Jake’s red pickup to finally, finally approach our house.

Around noon, the time has come. Thrilled, I rush to the door to greet them, immediately wrapping my arms around my favorite nephew. “Hey there, sweetie, Uncle Nick’s missed you so much!”

“Thanks for doing this, Nick,” Alicia tells me with a smile. “We really appreciate it.” Then she turns to her little son.

Giving him a loving kiss, she clutches his little hand. “And you be a good boy, sweetie, okay? Will you do this for me? Mommy and Daddy will be back in no time.”

Jake eventually joins us with a small box, containing everything Noah needs. Diapers, his baby bottle, his plush lion and a few of his favorite toys.

“Oh, we won’t be needing those,” I comment off-handedly as I spot the toys. “I’ve prepared ample of fun stuff for us to do to pass the afternoon.”

Apparently alerted by the hustle, Troy comes strolling from the living room as well, greeting our siblings-in-law and nodding at the box. “Let me help you with this, brother,” he says immediately, taking the box from Jake’s hand and carrying it inside.

Alicia exchanges farewells with her little boy and I’m just about to follow Troy inside, when all of a sudden, Jake calls me. “We still got a few picture books in the trunk. Do you wanna take a quick look at them and see if you want any of them?”

“Uhm, sure,” I reply, a bit startled though, since they could have just added the books to the box. Frowning, but also a little curious in a way, I follow him to the truck.

“Thanks again for offering to take Noah,” Jake tells me with a grateful smile as soon as we’ve reached the back of the truck, but makes no move to re-open the trunk. “It’s really hard for us to be without him, even if it’s just for one afternoon. But the past months have been very stressful, too. We both need a bit of fresh air to clear our heads.”

“Absolutely, Jake,” I agree immediately. “I totally get it. No need to explain. And Troy and I are so excited to have him over, I promise.” Taking a peek on the loading area. “So where exactly are the books…?”

“Actually, Nick,” Jake takes in a deep breath, shooting me a reluctant look. “There’s a little favor I’d like to ask of you.”

I can read in his eyes he’s uncomfortable saying this.

Puzzled and also a little unsettled by his strange behavior, I hold his eyes. “What is it?”

He sighs, then spits it out. “It’s about Troy. I mean, this will be his first time spending more than just a few minutes with No, and I… uhm…” Sighing as he struggles to find the right words. “It’s just… It would really set my mind at ease if you could keep an eye on him, see how he’s interacting with the kid, you know… Just to make sure…”

“Make sure what?!” He must notice my face darkening as he says this, cause whatever he’s suggesting here feels like a slap in my face. “Troy would never hurt Noah,” I state intensely. “ _Never_!”

“Of course not,” Jake agrees quickly to calm the waves. “Not intentionally at least.” Shaking his head. “But you know him. Better than anyone. He’s not always the most reliable person when it comes to judging the consequences of his actions… and I… I just would feel a lot better if I knew you’re gonna keep an eye on him. At least in the beginning.”

Jesus Christ. That’s the upside of being with Troy: Suddenly I’m the responsible one…

Jake’s eyes lock back to mine. “I love my brother, Nick. But I also love my son. And I could never bear if something happened to either of them, even just by accident.”

I look at him for a long time, then eventually I sigh. “I assure you, Jake, Troy will treat Noah like the apple of his eye. But if it eases your mind, I promise to be watchful.”

His eyes light up in relief as I say this. “Thank you, Nick! That really means a lot.”

“Yeah,” I reply, pursing my lips a bit reproachfully nevertheless. “But for the record, I really have to take up the cudgels for Troy here,” I point out. “Cause in all my life I’ve never seen anyone being more protective and selfless around the people they care about. Whenever we’re out on a mission with the militia and in the middle of clearing a building, he’s always the first to go in and the last to come out, at all times making sure everyone made it to safety before he takes his own leave.”

Jake nods a bit sheepishly at my words. He knows all of this.

Still, I go on. “And I’m sure you haven’t forgotten, when we fought those cattle thieves by the lake, he protected me by deflecting that knife coming at me with his bare hands. He had his palm impaled, just to keep me safe.”

“I know that,” Jake assures me.

“Good,” I nod, holding his eyes intensely. “Cause I assure you, you won’t find anyone who’d protect your son more fiercely than Troy.”

“I know,” he whispers once more.

I return his look with another nod, then put my hand on his shoulder amicably. “I promised you I’ll keep an eye on them, and that’s what I’m gonna do. But you make sure you keep those things in mind as well.”

 

I don’t blame Jake for his caution – of course not. He’s known his brother all his life and he meant no harm bringing this up. He just wants his loved ones to be safe and happy. All of them.

And I admit it: I may not exactly have the most unbiased view on Troy anymore. So I’m gonna do as Jake asked – even if it’s just to prove to him that everything’s gonna be fine.

So with a smile on my lips, I wave after him and my sister, as they finally head off, leaving their kid in our care.

“Everything alright?” Troy asks me, as I’m just about to turn around to get back inside, where Noah is already sitting on the floor, playing with a bunch of toy blocks.

I shoot him my most carefree smile. “Of course. I just hope No’s not gonna miss them too much.”

“It’s just gonna be a few hours,” Troy reassures me quickly. “After all, the stuff they got on their list shouldn’t be too hard to find.”

“Yeah, even though I’d bet that’s not _all_ they got on their list today,” I counter, my look suddenly a little suggestive.

Troy just frowns at that.

I wriggle my eyebrows. “Come _on_ ,” I defend. “It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it? I bet they haven’t had that many chances to spend time with each other after all of this. They’re missing each other, I get that. Hell, if you ask me, they wouldn’t even have to put on a show like that. I wouldn’t have minded if they just headed back home. After all, a bed is more comfortable than the backseat.”

Troy’s apparently totally taken aback by this. He wants to reply something, but then apparently another thought crosses his mind and he shoots me a skeptical look. “You insisted it was good.”

“Yeah, it _was_ ,” I reassure him quickly, then add with a shrug: “Still not too comfortable, though.”

At that, his blank expression turns into a grin as well and he gives me a quick snicker.

“All I’m saying is,” I go on eventually, patting Troy’s back good-naturedly. “We shouldn’t insist on them actually _showing_ us any supplies later.”

“Or maybe we should,” Troy counters with a smirk. “Just for the fun.”

I can’t help chuckling. “That would be really mean…”

“So that’s a yes?” Raising his eyebrow at me.

“Well,” I reply, stretching my arms, “my main goal today is to prove to Alicia that I am a reliable uncle and perfectly capable of babysitting. I wanna make sure Noah has a great time,” I point out, then add with a wink: “If she doesn’t appreciate it, we’re so gonna ask for the supplies.” Turning around. “But until then, I gotta live up to my desired reputation.” I nod towards the child on the floor of the living room. “So we better make the most of the little time we have as well. After all, we got a tight playing schedule ahead of us!”

 

*** Troy ***

 

In hindsight, when he said _tight playing schedule_ , I should have expected the worst. But I didn’t. After all, in the beginning, things actually started pretty harmoniously.

Not even five minutes after Jake and Alicia have left, Nick’s already sitting next to Noah on the floor, building little houses and cars with the toy bricks, much to Noah’s delight (even though his biggest joy seems to be breaking Nick’s constructions, which is – objectively – pretty funny indeed).

“Come on, Troy,” Nick calls me eventually, patting on the space next to him. “Play along.”

“You’re doing a great job, Nicky, you don’t need me,” I counter hastily, shooting him my most charming smile, the one that most of the time gets me what I want.

Not this time, though. “Come _on_ ,” he insists.

_Meh_. With a sigh, I give in and let myself drop on the floor, unenthusiastically taking one of the bricks in my hands and hold on to it – at least pretending to think about how to put it to good use.

The game continues like this for a while – Nick basically being the only one actually playing with the blocks, Noah enjoying smashing the sculptures and me sitting next to them doing nothing but daydreaming about all the fun and _useful_ things I could _actually_ be doing right now.

All of a sudden, however, there’s a sudden beeping noise interrupting the game, waking me from my sleep.

Nick presses one of the tiny buttons of his watch, then looks up at us. “Alright, enough with the building blocks! It’s drawing time!”

I’m basically as perplexed as Noah, not really getting what’s going on, as a few seconds later, all the toy bricks are gone and instead the floor around us is plastered with sheets of paper, and a bunch of colorful wax crayons spread around us.

“Here you go.” I get one of them thrust into my hand as well.

Noah actually seems to dig the new activity, immediately reaching for one of the crayons himself. And even though that made for a promising start, he eventually just ends up putting it in his mouth.

“No, sweetie, you’re supposed to draw a picture with them,” Nick intervenes, gently guiding Noah’s hand back down on the paper. To my surprise, the kid does seem to get it, eventually starting to create random doodles of color on his sheet, pressing way too hard though, so he basically ends up slicing the paper with his crayon.

Apparently still content by that, Nick goes ahead painting trees and animals and houses on his own paper sheets.

Absentmindedly, I’ve started doodling a bit as well, not paying much attention to it though, at least not until Nick clears his throat, nodding skeptically at my drawing.

Blinking, I suddenly notice I’ve actually started to sketch one of the walkers from my memory, so as soon as he reproaches me, I hastily add a pretty sun, a little house, a picket fence and a few flowers (even though in all honesty, it doesn’t really help making the scene any less creepy…).

When Noah’s just about to merrily reach for the green color, Nick’s watch suddenly starts beeping again, and he takes a look at it.

“Alright, honey,” he says, picking Noah up. “You’ve done such a great job drawing that picture. And it was fun, wasn’t it? Let’s try doing a puzzle.”

Noah gives a little sound of protest as he’s carried away, his eyes fixed longingly on the colorful crayons until they’re out of sight. It can’t be helped. Nick decides it’s puzzle time, so puzzle time it is.

By puzzle we’re of course talking those baby puzzles, the ones consisting of no more than ten pieces or so, each of them only fitting a certain blank in the puzzle, so it’s not possible to make any mistakes.

Naturally, by the time Nick has already completed his, all Noah managed to do is grab the first piece and put it in his mouth – it’s kinda ridiculous to watch. Luckily – for Noah – that activity isn’t meant to last either and subjected to Nick’s strict timetable as much as anything else.

As soon as the watch beeps again, Noah nearly gets hit by a ball tossed at him, as Nick decides it’s ball playing time.

And, according to this principle, the next hour goes by: Just as Noah’s eventually gotten used to playing with the ball, Nick grabs him again and puts him in bed, deciding it’s time for his nap. And once Noah’s eventually _actually_ fallen asleep, Nick jerks him from his dreams again, thrusting a picture book in his hands as it’s time for a story now.

I’m exaggerating of course; Nick’s always gentle with his nephew and Noah’s never in any _real_ physical danger. But I guess you get what I’m trying to illustrate here.

Noah’s protest, however, is indeed growing stronger with every activity he gets yanked away from, his disgruntlement increasing proportionally, so eventually the situation escalates as Nick tries to take away the book as well.

And all of a sudden, as to be expected, the house is filled with the angered whining of a little child.

Nick – having put so much work and thought into preparing all those activities – naturally takes it personally, scolding Noah for being ungrateful, before dashing off to the bathroom with a huff and slamming the door shut behind him.

 

Noah goes on crying like it was the end of the world, teary eyes eventually darting to me.

I startle as our gazes meet for a second, then quickly turn away. “Don’t look at me like that,” I growl. “It’s not my fault.”

It isn’t, so I don’t really feel prompted to calm the child. Instead – since the noise level is starting to hurt my ears – I take shelter in the kitchen, strolling around a bit aimlessly.

Eventually, I heard the toilet flush, and a few seconds later, Nick shows up in the doorframe. The look on his face is sad and blank – no trace of the anger he just displayed left, nor of the enthusiasm that probably caused him to overdo all of this in the first place.

“I was demanding too much of him, wasn’t I?” he whispers guiltily, expression crestfallen.

His self-reflection has always been one of his strong points, no arguing that. And seeing him like this, disappointed in himself and full of regret about this sudden and unexpected turn for the worse, all my reluctance and indifference crumbles as well, my heart growing soft. “You were just trying to be a great uncle,” I point out, trying to cheer him up. “And he _was_ having fun…”

By now, the crying has actually subsided, and – taking a glance across the corridor into the living room – we spot Noah sitting in the middle of the floor, taking comfort in hugging his plush lion.

“He’s having fun _now_ ,” Nick notices quietly. “Now that I’m not standing next to him with a stopwatch in my hands.”

“You know, I’m all in favor of stopwatches and timing things…” I counter, putting my hand on his shoulder as I shoot him a weak grin. “But I guess sometimes clinging to a schedule is the exact opposite of playing…” I shrug. “You want him to have a great time, not be bored, but I guess a kid his age can hardly be bored at all. I mean, if someone presents you with a pebble, your reaction – with your 24 years of life experience – will probably be a yawn, because you already know it’s not gonna do anything exciting anytime soon. But he doesn’t know that yet. If you present him with a pebble, he still expects a miracle.” Shaking my head. “To him, _everything_ is new and exciting. He doesn’t need much to keep himself busy and have a great time.”

Nick raises his eyes at this, giving me a hopeful look. “So what would you suggest?”

Me? I blink. Phew, no idea… I certainly haven’t wasted any thought on how to entertain a toddler. So I guess I don’t really have any experience to draw from – except maybe my own childhood…

“You know, when I was little,” I say, surprising myself with the answer, “I always enjoyed visiting the cattle on the pastures.” Turning my head to the window. “It’s nice outside. Why don’t we take a little walk?”

 

***

 

Roughly ten minutes later, we’re making our way across the ranch, heading for the pastures – but every single step sort of takes an eternity.

First, Noah wants to walk on his own, which literally takes forever, then, as soon as Nick decides to just carry him, we get held up by pretty much everyone we encounter: Be it the Twomneys or Mrs. Andrews, Paul or Mrs. Franks, and even Coop – neither one of them can just pass us by without interacting with the kid in at least some way, greeting him or ruffling his hair, praising how tall he’s grown or complimenting his cute dinosaur shirt.

Coop even fools around with Noah long enough for the inevitable to happen. Leaning in dangerously close to the child, Nick and I instinctively blurt out our hasty warning in unison: “Careful with the beard!” But it’s already too late. And have you ever tried to get a little kid to release something they’ve set their mind on keeping?

Let’s just say, we were this close to getting a pair of scissors.

So it’s already half past four when we finally reach the fences of the pastures.

Nick immediately starts pointing at the cattle, showing the cows and horses to Noah by talking about them in an impressed tone of voice.

Noah’s fascination with the animals on the other hand only lasts a few blinks, since barely a few moments later, the grapevines behind us catch his attention. And no matter how hard Nick keeps on trying, the plants are so much more exciting to him.

Pointing at them and making little noises of yearning, he grows restless until Nick eventually sets him down, so he can toddle towards the vines.

We follow him slowly, when Noah spots a few grapes lying on the ground and, with delight, he eagerly staggers towards them to pick them up.

“Oh, wait, sweetie,” Nick intervenes immediately. “Those are dirty and moldy…” He picks a few fresh ones, crouching down to offer them to Noah. “These are fresh and tasty. You want some?”

Noah lets himself drop to the ground (or maybe he just lost balance again, it’s so hard to tell…), now gazing at the berries in Nick’s hand, but instead of accepting them, he just stares at them.

This might take a while, I think, picking a few grapes myself, tossing them into my mouth one by one to keep me entertained.

“Pretty, aren’t they?” Nick goes on talking to Noah. “And you know what, if you let them dry in the sun, they turn into raisins! Can you believe it? Do you like raisins, honey? They’re really chewy and sweet!”

“And disgusting,” I can’t help pointing out, swallowing my final grape as I cross my arms before my chest. Poor kid shouldn’t be talked into trying one, tempted by Nick’s suave words. “They always remind me of a rabbit’s droppings.”

“And you remind me of Grouchy Smurf,” Nick counters, shooting me a displeased look over his shoulder before turning back to Noah.

Pah, I have no idea what he’s talking about. Even though his words make me strangely self-aware of my crossed arms, so I hastily drop them, shoving my hands into my pockets instead.

The kid eventually takes one of the berries from Nick’s hand after all, awkwardly putting it into his mouth. Anyone willing to take bets with me on whether he manages to get them down with those four little teeth of his?

“Hmmh, tasty, aren’t they? And you know what,” Nick goes on, “they can also be pressed to make wine – that’s something your parents can drink.”

“Technically,” I chip in, “pressing the grapes creates grape juice. That needs to ferment first before you _actually_ get any wine. And that on the other hand requires the right temperature as well as the right juice quality, cause otherwise nothing will happen at all.”

Even though I only see Nick’s back, I know he’s rolling his eyes at me, so I’m quick to add: “If you wanna educate him, then at least do it properly.”

“He’s _fourteen months old_ , Troy,” Nick counters with a growl, shooting me a look over his shoulder. “He doesn’t give a shit about that!” Only mouthing the word _shit_ as he says this, though it’s not like Noah would have actually gotten what that meant anyway.

Let me add that by now, Noah is holding the partially crushed grape in his hands again, inspecting the result of his chewing. It’s pretty disgusting, but also funny in a way. So, “Yeah,” I go on, “looks like luckily he’s more interested in the grape itself than the bullshit you’re telling him, anyway,” I point out quite satisfied (and _I_ ’m _not_ mouthing the _shit_ ).

“Yeah, fancy that,” Nick counters, slightly piqued. “He can’t even eat a grape without analyzing it. He’s as much of a nerd as you.” Turning his attention back to Noah, his voice immediately grows sweet again. “Come on, honey, you’re gonna mess up your shirt, and then your mommy will scold me…”

He proceeds to cleaning the kid’s hands, while I suddenly stand there, staring at them, frozen. _He’s as much of a nerd as you._

My God… For the very first time, a thought crosses my mind. A realization. Can it really be? Is there actually some kind of connection between us, a similarity between Noah and me?

After all, this kid isn’t just _anyone’s_ child. It’s Jake’s. To a certain (and rather significant!) extent, we do share the same genes. And in that regard – if we start from the premise that, being with Nick, I won’t ever have kids of my own – no other person in the world might ever be more similar to me than him.

God, what if he turns out to be as interested in understanding nature and the causes and effects in this world as me? What if he one day would even join me in my research? We’d be one hell of a duo, uncle and nephew, working side by side…

Keeping my eyes fixed on that little toddler on the ground.

He could one day become my successor at the militia. _Blood is thicker than water_ , that’s what they say, isn’t it? Family can always be trusted most. So he would be the perfect candidate…

Geez, what a realization… But in a way, it all makes perfect sense. Of course, his curiosity, analytical thinking and power of deduction would have to be promoted at young age… So…

I swallow.

A reason to tend to the unripe pear after all?

Without wasting another second, I turn to the wheat plants that grow opposite the grapevines, plucking one of the ears. Crouching down next to Nick, I hold it to Noah.

Nick immediately shoots me a questioning look, while Noah indeed starts eying the ear curiously.

“And you know what that is, Noah, huh?” I start, slowly twirling the wheat ear with my fingers back and forth, back and forth. “That’s wheat. Substantial, nutritious wheat. It serves as the basis for one of our most important staples.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re planning on lecturing him about how to bake bread now…” Nick hisses, eyes still fixed on me.

Noah, meanwhile, has reached for the ear, slowly grabbing it with his hand – and as I contently expect him to inspect it more closely, he just opens his mouth and shoves it inside.

I blink at him in disbelief for a moment, then I can’t help rolling my eyes. Alright. I guess we still might have quite a way to go…

 

***

 

About one and a half hour later, we’re finally back home.

Nick immediately hurried off to soak Noah’s shirt to get rid of the grape stains, after we changed him into some fresh clothes. So for a few minutes, I end up alone with Noah in the living room.

Unsure how to interact with him despite our strange moment of bonding earlier, I seek refuge on the porch, taking a few breaths and gazing over to the gates, check if Jake’s pickup already comes into sight.

Nothing so far.

I’d ask what’s taking them so long, but I guess in the end I don’t _really_ wanna know.

Enjoying the warm afternoon air for a few more moments, I eventually stroll back inside, more or less eagerly deciding to check on Noah.

The kid’s in the middle of toddling across the room, but he only manages to take a few steps before stumbling again and collapsing right on the spot.

A voice in my head reminds me not to roll my eyes, but since Nick’s not around, I guess there’s no need to hold back.

Awkwardly, Noah tries to get back on his feet, tumbling over again instantly – once, and then a second time.

Eventually I can’t bear to witness that tragedy anymore. “Jesus Christ, you’re pathetic,” I growl, coming over to him and picking him up. “How are you planning on joining the militia if you can’t even stay on your feet?”

I’d originally intended on setting him down again right away, but unexpectedly, he defeats my plan. To my utter dismay, all of a sudden tiny arms wrap around me, a head resting against my shoulder. He’s clinging to me like a little monkey baby on his mother’s arm, softly cuddling against me.

“Oh God, that’s really not necessary,” I hiss automatically, my instincts prompting me to push the little head off me and increase the distance between us back to a more comfortable level, but that’s kinda hard if you got both your hands full – with exactly that little kid. “Come on,” I complain instead. “Our relationship is purely professional!”

Noah of course doesn’t give a shit about that – but apparently is so blissfully happy with me holding him like this, he even starts humming a quiet song to himself, leaning against me as if he was planning on singing himself to sleep right here and now.

_Song_ of course is a very broadly defined term. It’s not like he can actually render a proper melody. It’s basically just a random sequence of notes, whatever comes to his mind.

Well, as much as I dislike the situation, I guess until Nick returns I don’t have a choice but to endure.

“You really are a lost cause, you know that,” I growl at him. “I basically insulted you just now, and you still like me.”

Looking down at him for a moment, I realize he’s still comfortably resting his head against my shoulder, a tired but happy expression on his face, eyelids so heavy he’s having trouble keeping them open, still going on with his weird humming.

And all of a sudden, and for the very first time ever, I notice a strange feeling of warmth inside my heart. Very much different from the purely utilitarian bonding that happened between us earlier.

He doesn’t get what I’m saying, of course not, but there’s more than that. He doesn’t _care_ either.

He doesn’t like or dislike me because of the things I say. He doesn’t judge me for the things I’ve done. He doesn’t even _know_ about them.

Of all the people around, he’s the only one who looks at me without even the slightest hint of disgust, of reproach. He likes me – simply because I’m his uncle and I feel familiar to him, simply because I’m part of the family he knows, one of the people he feels safe and comfortable around.

And in that regard, this sympathy he displays towards me is unlike any kind of love I’ve ever seen before.

I’ve never been loveless in my life. Love has always been around me. For the biggest part of my adolescence, it was the love of my brother, who’s always been there for me when I needed him and who would never abandon me, no matter what.

So back then and with him around, I thought I already knew everything there was to know about love.

Then Nick came along, putting his hand on my cheek, his lips against mine. And a whole new universe opened up to me. There was so much more to love than I’d thought. A kind of love that runs even deeper, can be so strong it takes your breath away, but is also more delicate and fragile in return. It was different from anything I’d ever known before.

And now… One look of ice-blue eyes, a heartfelt clinging to my shoulder… Can it really be? Can it really be that this little kid could open yet another world to yet another aspect of love I haven’t known so far?

As wonderful as it is, Nick’s love isn’t unconditional. I know that. If I do something bad, I’ll lose him. And even though that would certainly be the death of me, the mere possibility remains.

A child on the other hand can love you just because you’re their family, they know you and you’ve always been around. They don’t demand anything in return except for shelter, warmth and comfort. It’s an unconditional type of love, and I’ve never had that before.

Could it really be right before my eyes? I would just have to reach out to it and grasp it?

Suddenly feeling very tired, I purse my lips as I gaze down at Noah, eying him for a long time.

“What do you think?” I eventually ask him, softly rocking him on my arm. “Would you overlook my flaws if I overlooked yours?”

He doesn’t react, but still keeps on humming his baby song with a happy smile.

If I wanted to, I could take that as a yes.

So, slowly, reluctantly, I burry my face in his hair – not really giving him a kiss (we wouldn’t want to rush things), but lips touching his hair nevertheless. His head feels warm, the hair soft and silken, surprisingly different from Nick’s. Compared to Noah’s, Nick’s hair feels thicker, bushier. It can be dirty or sweaty after a long day of patrol. Noah’s hair on the other hand is fresh and clean – it feels like a reflection of his innocence.

And all of a sudden, responding to my cautious tenderness, Noah’s grip around me tightens, an approving squeak mixing into his song.

And God, even though I would have never guessed, it feels nice.

It feels even nicer when eventually there’s a hand on my back, and Nick’s beside me, a happy smile on his face.

“Looks like the two of you are finally warming up to each other?” he asks with a chuckle, shooting me a hopeful look.

My first instinct is to deny it once more, but then again, what I just felt was real and Nick’s been rooting for it anyway.

“Well, we may have come to a temporary truce,” I admit softly, turning my head to Noah. “Haven’t we?”

 

*** Nick ***

 

Once I’m done soaking the shirt with the cartoon dinosaur, I make my way back to the living room, looking for No and Troy. Practically expecting the latter to be outside on the porch, yearning for Jalicia’s return while the kid toddles around the room on his own, I can’t believe my eyes when I spot them from the doorframe.

Troy’s holding Noah in his arms, talking to him quietly and rocking him softly, just like I’d shown him when the little one was born. And to my utter surprise, I even catch him planting a soft kiss on the kid’s head.

For a moment I just stand there, gazing at them, baffled, and even though I can’t understand Troy’s words, the soothing tone of his voice reaches me even over here. I listen to it and close my eyes – and a gentle smile starts curving my lips. He’s going to be great at this, told you, Jake. I’ve always known.

He’s gonna be alright. They’re gonna be alright.

He once took care of his mother, he’s always so good and sweet to me. Why on earth shouldn’t he be able to show tenderness towards a child?

He’s the Caring Boy, after all. Has always been. He’s got it in him.

That smile still on my lips, I eventually make my way towards them, taking a breath.

“Looks like the two of you are finally warming up to each other?” I say, putting my hand on Troy’s shoulder as soon as I reach them.

To my surprise, for the first time, Troy doesn’t deny it.

He looks at me for a moment, a crooked grin on his lips. “Well, we may have come to a temporary truce,” he informs me, before turning his head back to Noah and affectionately rocking him softly once more, “haven’t we?”

Noah replies by starting to sing some kind of baby song, a more or less random sequence of notes without any decipherable words.

“Yeah…” Troy shoots me an amused look. “He’s sort of a musician…”

I can’t help chuckling. “That’s a sweet song you’re singing…” I praise the kid, stroking his cheek with my finger. “What song is it, sweetie, huh? Did Mommy sing that to you?”

Of course, he doesn’t reply, but my words seem to encourage him to sing even more enthusiastically.

I raise my eyes to Troy. “Sounds a bit like _Hey Jude_ , don’t you think?”

“If you got a really vivid imagination…” he snorts off-handedly.

I grin merrily. “I guess babies his age usually sing _Old MacDonald had a farm_ or something… But he doesn’t bother with that and gets right to the classics. He’s badass!” Focusing my attention back to Noah. “Is that _Hey Jude_ you’re singing, sweetie?”

And since Noah doesn’t reply once again, I start singing the song myself: _“Hey Jude, don't make it bad…”_

Noah immediately grows quiet in return and listens to me attentively, gaping at me with his eyes wide open.

_“Take a sad song and make it better!”_ Kicking Troy in the shin. “C’mon, Troy!”

“Sing?!” he asks, giving me a disbelieving look. “Over my dead body!”

“We’ll work on it,” I assure him, before giving him a wink. “I can be persistent.”

He counters with a little huff, turning his eyes back to Noah, as I put my arm around his waist and give him a quick peck on the neck. “I wanted to be a great uncle, but truth is, I’m only _really_ at my best when you’re with me.”

He snorts at that, the look in his eyes however full of affection.

I give him a kiss before resting my chin on his shoulder. And with a smile at Noah, I finish my song:

_“Remember to let her into your heart. Then you can start to make it better.”_


	5. Nick Clark and the Meat Mystery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, thank you for all your sweet comments on the last chapter!! That really meant a lot to me since the uncle moments were something I was so excited about writing from the very start! So I'm really happy you guys enjoyed it and it turned out alright!
> 
> That being said, Noah's taking a little break this week - since I feel it's time for a purely Trick focused chapter again :) After all, the pear can do a bit of ripening on its own without us having to constantly watch, no? ;)
> 
> So since of all the fanfic tropes in this story we hadn't had sick!fic yet, here we go with poor Troy falling ill and Nick nursing him back to health - while playing a little Sherlock Holmes :)
> 
> Hope you'll enjoy!

“So, did you finally manage to get Troy pregnant?” Coop laughs at me heartily, as I inform him of the “happy news”.

“Well,” I counter, wriggling my eyebrows defiantly, “I guess we’ll find out nine months from now…”

He pauses for a second, then ends up laughing even harder at this – someone joining in on a joke is always something Coop appreciates. Eventually, he pats my shoulder. “So, training’s on me today?” he asks, now serious again.

“And shooting practice, too, if you manage,” I add with a nod. “I wouldn’t take a bet on Troy making it to either of them.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Coop replies calmly, before turning around and heading for the barracks. “Send him my best.”

“Yeah, will do,” I reply quickly, then can’t help adding with a sigh: “He’s gonna need it.”

 

Troy’s rarely been sick – in all honesty, I can hardly remember any incidents in all those years we’ve been together. Of course, there was his broken leg two years ago, the nasty cold he’d caught around Thanksgiving and that “fever” that had “unfortunately” “forced” him to stay home when Jake had invited the ranchers to attend his big New Year’s address.

I guess when it comes to sicknesses, there are generally two kinds of people: The ones who tend to headaches and migraine, and the ones with a weak stomach that tend to nausea. Troy definitely falls into the former category, even though whenever the headaches hit him, he’s pretty good at hiding it.

So when all of a sudden he fell sick last night with that nasty stomachache, I couldn’t help worrying.

It was around four a.m. actually, when something woke me from my sleep.

Opening my eyes and blinking into the darkness, I quickly noticed Troy making weird noises, short little grunts, as if he was suffering through a terrible nightmare – but since he was lying with his back to me, I had no way of telling whether he was actually still asleep or rather wide awake and in pain.

The former was actually the case, since once I sat up to check on him, the noises stopped as well and seconds later, Troy turned around, opening his eyes.

Seeing his face, I winced in shock. Maybe it was the faint moonlight making it even worse, but his face was as pale as a ghost’s, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead – his breaths hard and shallow.

“Troy?” I called him as soon as he looked at me.

“Uhm…” He flinched as he sat up, wiping over his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt. “Not feeling… too well…” he managed to utter in a faint voice, then slid towards the edge of the bed, shakily getting on his feet and heading for the bathroom.

I heard the door shut noisily, as if he’d taken the final steps in a sprint, not caring anymore about being quiet in the middle of the night.

The minutes went by, but Troy didn’t return. Ten minutes, twenty minutes… I kept eying the alarm clock, my worry rising with every minute. When Troy hadn’t returned after more than half an hour, the sudden fear he might have collapsed in the bathroom made me jump to my feet.

Switching on the lights, I made my way through the corridor until I reached the bathroom, a faint line of light falling on the dark floor from underneath the door.

Inside, everything was quiet.

“Troy?” I called, softly knocking against the door. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” came the reply, not even a second later. “Sorry to wake you, Nicky.”

“You don’t sound fine,” I countered skeptically. “What’s wrong, honey?”

“I dunno,” his voice replied. “Threw up twice and… I got some nasty cramps… and also some less sexy stuff… I’ll better stay here for a while…”

“Gosh, Troy,” I hissed empathically. “Should I get Pam?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he countered, voice even weaker than before. “Must have been some bad food… Ain’t nothing she could do anything about. I just need to get it outta–“ He didn’t manage to finish that sentence, as all of a sudden, his voice was drowned by a sequence of nasty gagging sounds.

Appalled, I stood there until silence returned. “Isn’t there anything I can do?” I asked again, deeply worried.

“What do you wanna do? Hold my hair back?” he countered eventually, sarcasm resonating in his words even in his hour of agony. “Go back to bed, Nicky. I’m fine…”

 

But he didn’t return to bed all night. When the alarm clock sounded in the morning and I got up, I found him downstairs on the couch, a tea mug on the coffee table. It was still half full, the tea however already cold. The blanket he had grabbed had fallen to the floor, so I carefully picked it up and covered him, careful not to wake him in the process. Who knew how long it’d taken him to actually fall asleep like this. I could have never forgiven myself if I’d woken him.

Taking one final look at him, seeing him lying there like this, face so pale and worn, it made my heart clench. I couldn’t help letting my fingers brush through his hair softly. “Get well again, soon, my angel,” I whispered with a heavy heart, before heading out for training.

 

***

 

So that’s how it came to me informing Coop of his temporary promotion in the morning. As Troy‘s right hand man, it of course fell to him to lead our training sessions as well as our missions until Troy‘s return.

So our usual morning practice took place under Coop‘s watchful eyes, just like the supply run that followed right afterwards. We return to the ranch around two p.m., and since I did my part by tagging along, it means I’m already done with my duties for today.

My first instinct is to head right home to check on my boyfriend. Then however another thought crosses my mind and I decide to drop by the canteen first.

Mrs. Andrews, our cook, is already in the middle of cleaning the large kitchen after today’s lunch. She’s a very nice elderly lady with a round and kind face, whom I’ve – aside from some temporary issues – always gotten along very well and generally been very fond of – a mutual feeling.

She doesn’t notice me at first, pulling a huge pot from the dishwater.

“Mrs. Andrews?” I call her eventually, peeking into the kitchen from the large pavilion that serves as our mass hall.

She turns around immediately. “Oh, Nick, hello,” she greets me, setting the pot down. “Can I help you?”

“Actually, I hope so,” I tell her quickly, shooting her an excusing smile. “I was wondering if there’s maybe any broth left from lunch? Troy’s sick, and I thought a bowl of hot soup might help him get better.”

“Sick?” the cook repeats, turning to me with a worried expression. “What’s wrong with him?”

“I’m not sure,” I repeat truthfully. “I guess he’s caught some kind of stomach bug…”

“How odd…” Mrs. Andrews frowns. “To be honest, you’re not the first person coming here for broth today. Apparently, Melvin and his family haven’t been feeling too well either.”

“Maybe it’s some kind of infection,” I offer as an explanation, watching her as she takes a food storage box and fills it to the brim with deliciously smelling soup.

“You should send him to Pamela if he doesn’t get better,” Mrs. Andrews suggests, safely locking the box before handing it to me. “And be careful not to get infected as well.”

“I will,” I counter with a smile. “But don’t worry. I’m great. I’m gonna nurse him back to health and then we’ll all be fine again. And I’m sure your legendary broth is the perfect first step in that direction.”

She gives me an amused look as I say this, then turns back to the soaking dishes. “Tell him from me to get well soon.”

“Will do,” I nod. “And thanks for the soup.”

 

When I arrive home not much later, I find Troy still lying on the couch, exactly like I’d left him, even though the blanket’s entirely gone now. There’s also a different mug on the table and a hot-water bag on Troy’s belly.

He must have been awake for a while, already gazing at the door expectantly as he heard me return.

“Hey there, honey…” I whisper quietly, eying him with a worried expression. “How are you?”

“I’m okay,” he replies, though it’s obvious it’s just his usual tough act. Even in bright daylight, he looks weak and miserable, face pale, dark circles around his eyes, the hair messy, but not in the sexy bedroom way, but rather the plainly unwashed way.

“You don’t look well,” I point out quickly, my worry intensifying. “Have you eaten?”

“I’ve done a lot of eating,” Troy counters to my surprise, then sits up and turns around to face me. “A lot of _reverse-eating_ , if that counts.”

“It doesn’t,” I inform him with a frown. “I’ve brought you some soup from the canteen.”

“I’m not hungry,” Troy replies immediately, pulling his legs to his chest, tightly hugging the hot-water bag between himself and his thighs.

“You gotta eat to get back some energy,” I simply state, and before he gets the chance to protest, I head off to the kitchen, re-heating the soup I got from Mrs. Andrews.

“I don’t wanna eat anything,” Troy insists once more as soon as I return to the living room a few minutes later.

“We’re both having a bowl of delicious, healthy soup,” I inform him with an easy-going smile, pointing at the two steaming bowls in my hands. I figured by showing some solidarity and making this feel like nothing but a usual dinner, I might get him to swallow his pride. So, confidently, I put the bowls down on the coffee table, then let myself drop on the couch next to my boyfriend.

“I appreciate the effort,” Troy tells me with a calm, but determined voice, “but I really…”

“Enjoooy!” I interrupt him, merrily grabbing one of the bowls and putting a spoonful of soup into my mouth. “Chicken broth is the best medicine when you’re sick,” I remind him. “It contains a lot of minerals, calcium, magnesium, sulphur, and the vegetables add a bunch of phytonutrients… And that’s just perfect to make you healthy again.” I shoot him one of my most optimistic grins, but he just sighs, eyeing me with a frown.

“You read that somewhere.”

“So what, it’s still true,” I point out, then my voice turns serious again. “I’ve really been worried about you, Troy, ever since last night,” I tell him honestly. “You’ve been on my mind all day.”

“It’s just a bit of nausea,” he counters, his voice however suddenly strangely thin.

“All I want is for you to be well again,” I insist, holding his eyes for a long while. Then my eyes drop to the bowl. “Eat the soup.”

He gives me another long sigh. “Well, if you insist…”

My expression melts into a relieved smile. “Oh, I insist,” I confirm, then take another spoonful of my own soup, blow at it for a bit – and hold the spoon to him.

He immediately turns away before I can reach his mouth. “Don’t you dare!” he growls and hastily grabs the other bowl, just to deprive me of any reason to feed him.

I smile to myself contently. Oh, my sweet, predictable Troy… I wanted him to eat the soup. Now he’s eating the soup. Mission complete, I’d say.

 

***

 

As it turned out, however, my _real_ mission was just about to start.

When I head out later that afternoon to take care of a few chores, I drop by the canteen once more – just to find Mrs. Andrews more upset than before.

“Sorry to bother you again. I just wanted to return the food storage box,” I tell her quickly. “I’ll put it over here?” As she doesn’t respond, I shoot her a worried look. “What’s wrong, Mrs. Andrews? Is everything alright?”

“I’m not sure,” she replies hesitantly, then turns around to face me. “Ever since you came here for the soup, six other people have dropped by, asking for chicken broth as well.”

I raise my eyebrows. “More sick people?”

She nods, pursing her lips as she looks away. “And the thing is… I’m pretty sure I saw each one of them here for lunch yesterday.”

“Mrs. Andrews…” I try to protest immediately, but she interrupts me.

“I’m always so diligent when it comes to making sure the food is well done…” She shakes her head with a pained look. “It’s my _job_! It couldn’t have been the food…” Raising her eyes to me. “Could it?”

“There’s no telling it was the cooking,” I point out after just a few blinks. “It could have been the ingredients. Maybe there was something wrong with them. What did you have for lunch yesterday?”

I wouldn’t know, since I’d been out on a mission all day. But there might be a point to what she said, since I know Troy’s been on patrol yesterday and probably had lunch here with his squad. But then again, if I remember correctly, he should have been with Paul and Liam – and I’ve seen both of them happy and healthy at training this morning.

“Ordinary steaks,” Mrs. Andews explains. “With beans and potatoes.” Her eyes trail to the oven. “And I’m absolutely certain the meat was well done.”

“Was it fresh?” I ask, the only other explanation I can think of.

“Yes, of course,” Mrs. Andrews nods. “Martin had slaughtered the cattle in the morning, and I immediately put it in the fridge as soon as he brought it.” She shakes her head, then shrugs. “Well, of course, if the cooling chain had been interrupted earlier, I wouldn’t know.”

“All of that’s weird,” I murmur eventually. “I think we should investigate. Not to point at a culprit, but to pinpoint the cause and make sure it won’t happen again.”

“Yeah…” Mrs. Andrews nods. “Sounds reasonable…”

“Imma talk to Rowlands,” I say eventually. “See if he noticed anything unusual about the meat.”

“Let me come with you,” Mrs. Andrews says quickly, untying her apron. “After all, I might well be one of the suspects myself, so finding the cause is actually in my very own interest.”

 

And so we set out together to uncover that mystery, just a few minutes later making our way to the pastures, where we should be able to encounter Mr. Rowlands at this time of day.

Some of you may actually be raising an eyebrow here, remembering the quarrel we had with Rowlands back in the days when Troy and I moved in together. He – just like a bunch of other people here at the ranch (and in all fairness, Mrs. Andrews had been amongst them as well) – weren’t too fond of two guys living together and gave us (rather: me) quite the hard time.

In the end, we were able to bury the hatchet, realizing we all needed each other to make this place work, so the only way was for all of us to make compromises. We haven’t had any major issues with Rowlands ever since, but unlike Mrs. Andrews, the relationship always stayed pretty reserved. I certainly wouldn’t invite him for tea. On the other hand, he most likely wouldn’t invite _me_ either, so I guess it’s kinda fair. To me, that’s okay. You don’t have to be friends with everyone. We’re professional enough to get along, and that’s all that matters.

So it’s not like I’m tense or nervous talking to him – if it even comes to that. Cause strangely, as we look around the pastures, all we spot is the cattle. Rowlands however is nowhere to be found.

A bit puzzled, we decide to try the barn next, taking a peek inside the large wooden building.

“Mr. Rowlands?” I call, looking around. “Are you here?”

Eventually, there’s a bit of rustling, then a figure appears from one of the adherent rooms.

I feel Mrs. Andrews suck in a sharp breath next to me. “Martin, good gracious…”

He’s pale as a ghost, holding a handkerchief to his mouth.

Uh-oh. I know that look. As a matter of fact, I have someone at home who looks _exactly_ like this.

“Nick, Ann,” he calls us with a raspy voice. “Can I… can I help you?”

 

“I guess it started early this morning… I felt so sick when I woke up,” Rowlands reports with a weak voice. “Hasn’t gotten any better, to be honest, but it can’t be helped. The cattle need their food.”

We’ve sat down on a bunch of wooden boxes in the back of the barn – and strangely that feels like we’re having a war council of sorts.

“You’re not the only one,” Mrs. Andrews informs him quickly. “We’ve heard of several people, Melvin and his brother, Sarah and Louis, Clara and the old Miller…” Nodding at me. “Troy…”

“What about Jimmy?” Rowlands coughs a few times, then his eyes dart to me.

I shake my head. “Jimmy’s fine. Has been kicking ass in training, as always.”

That gets him to chuckle, even if just a little. “That’s good.” He seems truly relieved to hear that his son is unaffected.

“We think something must have been wrong with yesterday’s lunch,” the cook goes on. “We’re trying to find out what it was.”

“Not to point at a culprit,” I assure him hastily (especially since it’s Rowlands), “but to pinpoint the cause. So we can make sure it won’t happen again.”

Rowlands raises his eyebrows at us. “You think there was something wrong with the meat?”

I shrug. “Maybe you noticed something unusual? Maybe the cooling chain had been interrupted, before you gave the meat to Mrs. Andrews?”

“No, I’m always very diligent when it comes to handling meat,” Rowlands tells us, wincing as he holds his belly to fight the pain.

“Maybe there’s another reason,” Mrs. Andrews suggests. “Maybe the cow was sick?”

“Nah, she was a healthy lady,” Rowlands shakes his head. “Even though now that you’ve mentioned it, something was unusual indeed.”

Finally, a hint! Encouraged, I shoot Mrs. Andrews an excited look, and she returns it with curiosity in her eyes. Immediately, we lean towards Rowlands expectantly.

“Patricia came to me about a week ago,” he explains slowly, “to deliver my usual fodder supply. She said she’d run out of grains, so the fodder was a little different this time. I didn’t pay much attention to it, it’s happened before, but maybe in this case it’s a clue?”

“Sounds like a good clue,” Mrs. Andrews replies, nodding at me.

I get up from the wooden box. “I’d say we got our next destination!”

 

Rowlands – even though he rather looks like he should be in bed or at least stay within the range of a bathroom – insists on tagging along, since just like with Mrs. Andrews, he feels the need to clear his name. So not even a few minutes later, our little party makes its way towards the fields.

Mrs. Franks, who’s in charge of the crops, already spots us from afar, coming to meet us with a puzzled look on her face.

“Are you looking for me? Is something the matter?”

Without further ado, we go right ahead and retell our little story (“We’re not here to point at a culprit, but to pinpoint the cause, to make sure it doesn’t happen again!”), and eventually Rowlands reminds her of the fodder delivery in question.

“It wasn’t the usual mix, that’s right,” Mrs. Franks confirms openly. “I had to make some changes this time.” She points at the fields with a random wave of her hand. “Last week, we had our bread baking day, and to be honest, I hadn’t expected we would need that much grain, so when I was about to get your delivery ready, there was nothing left. So I added a bit of the pre-packaged feed mixtures to get you the right amount.”

Pre-packaged feed mixtures! Oh, sounds like another promising clue! We’re getting closer and closer to the culprit, I can feel it in my bones!

Apparently thinking the same, Mrs. Andrews and I share a triumphant look. “And where did you get that feed mixture, Mrs. Franks?” I ask, giving her my best inquiring Sherlock Holmes look, confident I’m this close to solving the mystery.

She however just blinks at me with a surprised expression, as if this was a silly question. “Well, I got it from the pantry,” she states. “It was brought in by you, the militia.”

 

_It was brought in by you, the militia._

The words hit me like a bolt of lightning, and immediately, all eyes are on me.

Wait, _what_?! That infection is supposed to be _our_ fault?! You _gotta_ be kidding me!!

I gulp. “That’s impossible!” I defend immediately. “We’re always so diligent when it comes to inspecting our supplies! We would never bring in rotten stuff!”

Dear God, I sound like… well, _all of them_ , when I confronted them with my suspicions. The fact that I – or at least my group – might actually be the culprits I was looking for, feels like the most ironic twist of fate.

I fear my skin color suddenly looking quite similar to Rowlands’s, even though for quite a different reason.

They must all notice what’s going on in my head or maybe the look on my face is just so priceless, but all of a sudden, they give me a round of laughter.

“Oh, don’t you worry, lad. Remember, we’re not here to point at a culprit,” Mrs. Andrews teases me with my own line, “but to pinpoint the cause!”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” I growl, but in the end, the absurdity of the situation gets the better of me and I can’t help chuckling as well.

So with me leading the way and Mrs. Franks as the latest addition to our party, our ever-growing caravan crosses the ranch once more, now raising more and more perplexed glances from the other ranchers – at least the ones not occupied throwing up in their bathrooms.

Just outside the pantry, we run into Coop and a bunch of other militiamen, unloading the supplies they brought home from their latest mission. Just like everyone else, he shoots us a puzzled, but also slightly amused look, and I’m quick to fill him in on my investigation and the latest twist (and it feels good having him in on this, since now I don’t feel like the only one responsible anymore).

And indeed, luckily, Coop immediately backs me, insisting as well that we would never bring in low quality stuff – so the only thing left for us to do is follow Mrs. Franks to where she got the fodder: A packed shelf in the rearmost corner of the pantry.

There’s a bunch of packages with feed mixture left, but to be honest, they seem to be in perfect order.

Unsure what to do now, Coop immediately reaches forward, grabbing a few of the packages to remove them – and all of a sudden, we all hold our breaths: The back of the shelf as well as the fodder packages touching it are covered with mold, and as we take a closer look, we notice a huge wet spot on the ceiling, water dripping from it in a slow, but steady pattern.

“There you have it,” Coop says, turning to us with a shrug. “The culprit you were looking for.”

 

***

 

We clear out the critical part of the pantry right away, then hand the issue over to Joey Mills, our plumber, who promises to get to work right away to locate the leaky pipe in the wall and fix it.

So in the end, there wasn’t an _actual_ culprit for us _not_ to point at – but through our common efforts, we managed to pinpoint the cause after all, and hopefully this will prevent another food poisoning like this from spreading over the ranch anytime soon.

“It still feels a little weird though,” I say eventually, turning to Rowlands as the expert on this. “A cow eats moldy fodder and just a few days later, people get sick eating the meat?” I shake my head with a frown. “Is it even possible for toxics to end up in an animal’s flesh?”

“To be honest,” Rowlands counters, “it _is_ weird. I guess it’s possible, but I think it would take a much longer time and a much larger amount of moldy fodder.” He shrugs. “I’d much rather expect the toxics to end up in the milk – or eggs, if we were talking chicken.”

“We _did_ have fruit yoghurt for desert yesterday!” Mrs. Andrews calls out all of a sudden, eyes wide open as she turns to us. “And I remember for a fact Troy had some!” Adding under her breath with a side glance at me, “He lectured me about the consistency…”

_Yeah, ha ha… That does sound like dear Troy…_

“And I had some, too,” Rowlands points out, wiping his forehead with his handkerchief once more as if to stress his point.

And so all the puzzle pieces fall into place. The meat mystery case is closed.

Mission complete, I’d say.

 

And it feels good. I have to admit, even as I return home from training the next day, I’m still feeling all smart and proud – and I plan on indulging in it some more.

At the same time, of course, I’m still worrying for Troy’s condition. He’s been fast asleep all night and since I wanted him to get completely well first before returning to the militia, I decided not to wake him in the morning, but rather let him sleep to give his body the time it needs to heal.

And apparently that’s been the right choice, since, closing the door behind me, I don’t find him anywhere in the living room. He’s probably still asleep upstairs.

Deciding to let him rest some more and not disturb him yet, I head to the kitchen first, brewing me a cup of coffee, then plop down on the couch and drop my head on the backrest, deciding to relax for a few minutes before checking on Troy.

I must have been about to doze off, when all of a sudden I hear the creaking of the wooden floor. Hastily opening my eyes, I spot Troy standing in the doorframe, looking at me.

He’s still wearing his T-shirt and the sweatpants, but the hair’s clean and fluffy again, so I guess he must have taken a shower – a good sign! And indeed, his face is back to a more healthy color.

I smile at him in relief. “You’re better,” I notice and he returns my smile immediately.

“Yup, much better,” he nods and comes over to me. “Thanks to you.”

“Come on,” I snort. “I didn’t do anything. You wouldn’t even let me hold back your hair.”

I hear him chuckle softly at this, but to my surprise, he doesn’t sit down next to me. Instead, he moves behind the couch, squeezing into the small gap between the sofa and the wall.

And before I even get a chance to ask what he’s doing, I feel his hands on my shoulder, thumbs gently starting to massage my back.

I can’t help snorting. “Come _on_.”

“No, let me,” he counters quickly. “Your mission today must have been exhausting. You look tired.”

“It _was_ pretty exhausting,” I admit, closing my eyes as – I can’t deny it – the touch feels relaxing – and _good_.

“My strong, my brave, my hard-working boyfriend,” he muses with a soothing voice.

I catch myself smiling at his words. “A little lower, please.”

His hands wander down to my shoulder blades, strong fingers easing the tension with circles of pressure. “Like this?”

“Hmmh, perfect…” I murmur, letting myself indulge in this pleasant moment. God, that feels good… I hadn’t realized I’d been this tense. Breathing out slowly, I close my eyes, enjoying his fingers kneading my back firmly and carefully at the same time. “You’re perfect…”

“You’ve nursed me back to health,” Troy points out, “cared for me, and in between solved a murder mystery.”

I end up snickering merrily. “It wasn’t exactly a _murder_ mystery,” I remind him, but he doesn’t really seem to care.

“You’re amazing,” he whispers, face suddenly right next to my ear. The massage has stopped. And before I get the chance to protest, I feel his teeth gently biting my ear.

“Gosh,” I hiss, ignoring the goose bumps on my arms. “Why do I get the impression someone’s got too much spare energy after two days of bed rest?”

“Spare energy?” he just replies innocently, warm lips trailing down my skin, until I feel a kiss on my neck. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m just trying to show my gratitude…”

Giving him a half-hearted tsk, I feel him stand up again, then, with an elegant swing of his legs, he hops over the backrest, suddenly kneeling on the couch right next to me. And before I get the chance to comment, he’s already caught my lips in a teasing kiss.

I can’t help chuckling, and honestly, him being so appreciative of my caring for him as well as the relief that he’s actually, _truly_ better again, raises my spirits in a pleasant euphoria. I merrily kiss him back, leisurely resting my elbows on his shoulders, as I shift to the side as well, to be able to face him more comfortably.

I can feel him smile against my lips, as he leans in even closer, pulling me towards him with his left hand on my back, his right one on my knee, slowly, teasingly trailing up my thigh.

Snickering as the thrill of the touch gets me to wince a little, I bite his lip gently, then steal one last kiss, before pulling away.

He immediately opens his eyes, giving me a look of disappointment and reproach, but the doubts are gone immediately as he notices the bright and honest smile on my face.

“For the record,” I tell him, “you don’t have to thank me. I love you, and I’m not well unless you’re well.”

He looks at me for a long time, deep, thoughtful eyes, then eventually, I feel his fingers weaving into mine, and slowly he brings my hand to his lips, softly nuzzling against my palm. “That’s a mutual thing,” he whispers with a muffled voice, then I feel his kiss against my skin. “And for the record,” he says, letting go of my hand and locking his eyes to mine, “even if you say I don’t _have_ to – I _want_ to.”

I can’t help chuckling at that, my smile turning into a fond grin. I quickly slide on my knees as well, then lean in to him and catch his lips in a loving kiss. “Well,” I whisper in a low voice as I feel his fingers run through my hair, “if you insist…”

He gives me a snicker at that as well, then kisses me back more passionately, fervently now, and I can’t help letting out a happy laugh as he pushes me back on the couch, following me down. I practically feel his grin turn into a smirk as he replies: “Oh, I insist.”


	6. Snaily

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really short chapter this time, but this scene's actually been one of the first snippets I'd written with Noah, and since I sort of like the atmosphere without too much of an additional backstory, I decided to include it as it is.
> 
> Hope you'll enjoy it anyway - and beware of major fluff ;)

*** Troy ***

 

They can grow on you indeed, kids. Who would have guessed? I’d certainly never thought that was possible for me, at least not until I experienced it. But ever since that day when I realized how strong and pleasant the love of a child could be, I slowly but surely started to see my little nephew in a different light.

One of the most impressive things about caring for a toddler is the excitement they display about practically everything you do for them, no matter how insignificant the gesture may be. When feeding Noah, for example, he would basically be stoked about each spoonful of baby food he gets, squeaking with joy and shaking his arms giddily.

In that regard, you certainly can’t complain about him being unappreciative or anything – at least as far as he’s actually _able_ to feel some sort of gratitude yet. As primitive as it may be, it’s head and shoulders better than what I’ve known so far. Cause after all, I’ve done the feeding thing before in what seems like a dark and distant nightmare today, and I know it’s something you shouldn’t take for granted to not have the bowl and the spoon hurled after you with threats and insults from the gates of hell when trying to show kindness to another person.

Maybe that’s why in the beginning I’d tried to keep him at a distance – because the last time I wanted to care for someone helpless, I had my soul torn apart.

Not Noah though. He’s an angel compared to the devils roaming this world, and whereas others would grab your arm and stub out their cigarette on your skin, he would scoot into your arms and cuddle against your chest, sweet and warm and full of affection. And the only screams resounding through the house would be his little cries of joy when you try to tickle his feet.

And just like that, in time, all those bad experiences that used to define my idea of adults/children relationships are – I wouldn’t say _extinguished_ , cause that will most likely never be possible, but at least _balanced out_ , showing me things _can_ be different. _Should_ be different.

Never mind the fact that this phase in Noah’s life, the one in which he’s most dependent on being cared for on the most basic levels of Maslow’s pyramid of needs, practically spins away in no time anyway – in that regard alone he’s way ahead of my mother.

And that’s actually another aspect that fascinates me about Noah: His development is one of the most astonishing processes I’ve ever witnessed. One day he’s still sitting around on the floor drooling, the next day he’s already running around, pointing at things and naming them.

Of course, you shouldn’t expect too much in the beginning. For example, whenever he points at me, “Oi” is the best he can come up with. In a way, it’s funny, since it’s just proof he can’t even manage to get a one-syllable name right. Yet, at the same time, it also evokes a warm feeling in my heart. Cause the thought of being important enough to him that he actually goes through the trouble to even just _try_ to get my name right, is a surprisingly pleasant feeling.

(For the record, I wanna add he’s only vaguely more successful when it comes to Nick (“Bick” in Noah language), so the following conversation has always been bound to happen: Nick: “Did he just call me a dick?” – Alicia (laughing): “Well, I’d say he saw right through you!”)

And before you even realize it, you find yourself making full conversations with him, answering question after question – and no matter what you show or explain to him, he listens to it with a mesmerized sparkle in his eyes. And hell, he’s a quick learner! (Not that I had any doubts about that – he’s my nephew after all!)

One day, I showed him a Sara Orangetip and from that day on, whenever he spotted one of those butterflies, he pointed at it, going all “Sara! Sara!” – even long before he realized Nick wasn’t _always_ a dick (haha!).

The older he grew, the more curious about nature he became, and I’m doing my best in fueling that interest, often taking long strolls with him around the ranch, along the hillside or cross-country to the pastures. I’m not allowed to talk to him about the dead though (going anywhere near the fence is off-limits anyway), so sticking to butterflies, herbs, fish and small rodents has to do for now. I’m okay with it, since we won’t run out of things to learn and explore within the confines of the ranch anytime soon.

(For the record though, I think it’s a mistake to keep this whole Apocalypse business from him entirely. Of course I’m not suggesting shoving a four-year-old towards a snarling moving corpse. But kids are fearless. If he at least _knew_ about what was going on outside his little world, if he grew up aware of the dangers that lurked beyond our land, understanding _why_ he isn’t allowed anywhere near the fences, we would at least spare a rebellious fourteen-year-old teen the horror of accidentally ending up face to face with his first walker.

That’s just my opinion. Not that it matters. I’m his uncle, not his dad, so it’s ultimately Jake and Alicia’s call to decide on what to tell and not to tell him about the outside world. I’ll also be happy to fill in the “I told you so” part when the time comes.)

Aside from all the exploring outside, No also loves spending time at our place – no surprise here, since the big house is the perfect place for games like hide and seek. Naturally, I’m in for a major déjà vu more than once, hearing the laughter and playful footsteps on the wooden floor and seeing the little kid run through the halls, a grinning face turning to me with shining eyes, features that resemble my brother’s so closely it’s outright scary (and I have to admit, I may have accidentally called him "Jake - ah, no, Noah!" once or twice...).

It’s moments like these that remind me of my own childhood, when the world was still a bright place to me (mostly), when I was still blissfully unaware of the demons and devils lurking in the dark shadows of this house. For Noah at least, I want things to always stay like this. And we might be lucky: After all, with Nick and me living here today, there aren’t any demons lurking in this house anymore. So when Noah pulls back the long curtain by the window, opens the door to the basement or takes a peek into one of the dark corners, the most he’ll ever find there is a hiding, snickering uncle.

 

***

 

As much as I love exploring the ranch with the kid or playing with him in the house, having him stay with us for a sleepover is always an even more special occasion for me. With Noah, Nick and me eating pizza at the dining table and later playing a few rounds of “Honey Buzz” with the board game and dices spread out on the floor in the living room as it slowly gets dark outside, for a few blissful hours we can pretend to be a real little family of our own, two parents and a kid, and a house full of warmth and laughter.

I know Nick’s enjoying those moments as much as I do, as sometimes when Noah rolls his dice and moves his honey bee towards the next nectar-filled blossom, he may shoot me one of his most adorable smiles, the happy one, the loving one.

We don’t get to finish the game tonight, though, since even before all the honey has been collected, Noah can hardly keep his eyes open anymore, so – despite him insisting he’s “not tired at all” – we decide it’s best to call it a day and finish the game tomorrow.

After a whole bunch of good-nights, Nick eventually takes Noah’s hand and heads upstairs with him to tuck him in, while I make my way back to the dining room, tidying up the remains of our dinner.

It’s strange, though, when I’m done doing the dishes about half an hour later, Nick still hasn’t returned yet. Hanging the dishtowel at its usual place next to the sink, I decide to take a look and check if everything’s alright.

As quietly as possible, I climb the stairs all the way up to the third floor, then take a peek inside the attic room. There’s Noah lying in the middle of the bed, blanket pulled up all the way to his chin, his plush lion tucked in beside him. Nick next to them, soundly asleep, but still clutching the picture book in his hands, even though it’s collapsed face down on his chest.

In contrast to Nick, Noah is still wide awake, giving me a sad and desperate look as soon as he notices me on the threshold.

“He didn’t find the story very exciting,” Noah informs me, the hurting tone in his voice making it sound like he considered himself personally responsible for that.

“He’s just tired, you know,” I tell him quietly as I come over slowly. “He had to get up really early this morning.”

“How early?” Noah wants to know, the hurt in his voice only gradually fading.

“It was still dark outside,” I explain, reaching the bed.

That does seem to impress him. “That means he got up in the middle of the night!”

“In the middle of the night,” I confirm. Well, _basically_.

“I want to know how the story ends,” Noah suddenly insists, pointing at the book on Nick’s chest.

_No way, I can’t do that_ , I think immediately, trying to come up with an excuse, when he gives me the puppy eyes and I know I don’t have a choice. So even though I don’t feel very comfortable reading a storybook to a child – a job that has always been Nick’s so far –, I gently take the book from Nick’s grip, careful not to wake him in the process, then quietly move around the bed, sitting down on Noah’s other side.

“Alright,” I whisper skeptically, flipping the book open. The pages are large and consist mostly of pictures, whereas there’s only a few lines of text to go with each of them. Okay, I conclude with at least some relief, that should be doable.

Noah reaches over to me and flips the pages of the book on my lap. “Here,” he says about halfway through the book. “That’s where Uncle Nick stopped.”

“Okay. So listen up,” I start, quietly reading the first few pieces of text out loud, careful not to wake Nick in the process, tilting the book towards Noah so he can look at the pictures while I read.

From time to time he interrupts me with little comments, making guesses about what’s going to happen next or pointing out little details he spotted in the pictures.

Eventually though his responsiveness dies down and once I’ve read four pages in a row without him contributing in any way, I take a look at him just to realize his eyes have closed.

There’s another pair of eyes wide open though, and they’re directed at me. Nick, perfectly awake, is lying on his side, hands folded under his cheek, and smiling at me with a dreamy look on his face.

“Please go on,” he whispers merrily. “I’m dying to know if Snaily manages to win the snail race after all.”

I close my eyes for a second, eventually realizing what’s going on here. “You never actually fell asleep, did you?”

“I’d never get over it if I’d missed a single beat of Troy Otto reading a storybook,” he teases, but the look in his eyes is so warm and full of affection, my initial annoyance at his little trick vanishes into thin air in no time.

“So what do we do now?” I ask him softly. “If we get up, we’ll wake him.”

Nick just shrugs. “Well, I guess that leaves us no choice, but to stay.”

I frown. “We sort of promised Jake and Alicia we wouldn’t let him sleep in our bed.”

“This isn’t our bed,” Nick deadpans with a goofy smirk and there’s no arguing that.

I can’t help chuckling. “You tell them,” I declare bluntly, shooting him a defiant grin.

“Pah, whatever, bring it on,” he counters with mock-boast. “I can take the wrath of our dear siblings-in-law anytime.”

Snickering fondly, I reach for him over Noah’s head, and Nick’s grin immediately softens into a loving glance. He takes my hand, interlacing our fingers, and I let my thumb stroke over the back of his hand.

“I love you, Nicky,” I whisper to him in the dim light of the quiet room.

“Love you, too, Troy,” he replies. Smiling happily, he takes a deep breath, shifting a little on the bed to get more comfortable, then closes his eyes as well.

I reach over to the lamp on the nightstand, dimming the light even further until there’s only a faint glow left. I’m just about to put the book away, when I hesitate. And just on principle, I flip to the end of the book. Peeking at the final picture, I whisper, “Snaily wins the race.”

There’s a chuckle coming from Nick as he clenches his fist victoriously and grins, “Yesss, knew it!”

 

* * *

 

  _Please check out this beautiful illustration, created by the amazing[Cudzinec ](https://www.deviantart.com/cudzinec/art/Pacifying-comission-750032731)<3_


	7. Happy Halloween

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know there's still some time until Halloween, but with the cold and the rain outside, I was already in fall mood ;)
> 
> Since it's been requested several times, I decided to make this chapter a Jalicia focused one, exploring their relationship a little and giving some glimpses into their family life.
> 
> Nick and Troy do get their appearance as well, of course, even if just a slightly minor one this time.
> 
> Next chapter won't be long, hopefully, and it will be an action-packed one, with Trick out on a mission.

If – let’s say – fifteen years ago, you would have asked Jake Otto for his worst Halloween nightmare, he probably would have replied the following: “Reaching my mid-thirties and still being stuck at the ranch, confined within those goddamn fences, doomed to deal with my family’s small-mindedness and their conservative bullshit day after day, until I lose my mind and become exactly like them.”

Today, on October 30th, 2019, the horror vision from his teenage days has actually become his reality – and he feels like the luckiest man in the world.

Of course, due to the circumstances, the world has taken quite a different turn than he could ever have anticipated back then, and in that regard, the variables in his equation have also significantly changed. He’s living at the ranch, yes. But rather than being locked _in_ by the fences, the sheltering walls are actually keeping the outside world locked _out_ – and with it, all the deadly dangers that lurk there ever since the apocalypse has come upon them. He’s safe here at the ranch, he and his family, whom he loves and cherishes more than anything in the world.

To be honest, in the past, Jake would have never believed he’d ever claim something like that about family and actually mean it. For the biggest part of his life, family had meant a drunk father, a mentally unstable brother and a deadbeat mother, who’d left him way before she actually had the chance to get to know him. Family had been a negative term to him. Family had been something you want to get away from.

Today, family means the warmth that fills his heart when they’re all gathered round the Thanksgiving Table: his wife Alicia, their son Noah. His brother Troy. His mother-in-law Madison and his brother-in-law Nick. When the room is filled with chatting and laughter, glasses clink and smiles are exchanged, and the strong bond they all share reminds them that even though the world has ended, they still have everything they truly need.

So yeah, his view on the world has definitely been turned upside down. And it all had changed with one person. One look. One touch.

_I used to love all this – poetry, art… But now… What’s the point?_

Alicia.

“Don’t forget your jacket.” It’s actually her voice that brings him back to reality. He turns around and blinks at her. She’s shooting him one of her trademark crooked smiles, holding the jacket to him.

“Thanks,” Jake murmurs, taking the piece of clothing from her.

“I hope I’ll find a good one,” Noah chimes in, hopping around between them in excitement. “And then I’m gonna carve the coolest and scariest pumpkin that’s ever been made.”

At that, Jake can’t help shooting Alicia a grin. They both know _who’s_ gonna do the carving in the end, but yeah, sure…

Alicia crouches down before Noah, stroking over his head with a smile. “I’m sure you’ll find an amazing one.” She gives him a quick kiss, which he tries to dodge with a little pout, then stands back up and kisses her husband goodbye. She quickly grabs her own jacket before heading for the door to get to work. She’s just about to open it, when suddenly she stops and turns around one last time to shoot them a smile over her shoulder, amber hair falling over her back like strands of honey. “Good luck, my fearless pumpkin hunters.”

Noah immediately chuckles with pride and waves at her enthusiastically. “Bye, Mom!”

“See you later, Alicia.” Jake adds with a smile.

Once she’s gone, he puts on his own jacket, then grabs the shovel and knife he’s prepared and Noah hurries off to get his little handcart.

“Alright then,” he says eventually, nodding at the kid that’s looking up at him with eyes full of excitement and anticipation. “Ready to go?”

 

Jake has a lot of other jobs to take care of first, but Noah’s always happy to accompany his dad on his daily routine – even though today he really can’t wait to get his pumpkin.

So when they eventually cross the ranch together, finally heading for the crops fields, Noah’s eyes start shining with joy as he spots all the big and pretty pumpkins among other vegetables, coloring the fall landscape with spots of bright orange.

Mrs. Franks notices them immediately and comes over to them, greeting them with a smile.

“I see you’ve come prepared,” she says to Noah with a quick glance at his handcart. “Feel free to pick whichever one you like.”

“Great, thank you, Mrs. Franks!” Noah calls with a smile, then hops off to inspect the pumpkins and select the best one for his Halloween night.

“Thanks for letting us have one, Patricia,” Jake says with a grateful smile at her.

“You should get one, too,” Mrs. Franks insists. “Otherwise, it will only be half the fun for him if his daddy doesn’t carve one of his own.” She shrugs with a grin. “Besides, there’s more than we could ever eat. And I guarantee you, after the second week of pumpkin soup at the canteen, you’ll wish you’d taken more than just one.”

“This one’s great!” Noah calls from the fields, pointing at an exceptionally big pumpkin. “Take a look, Daddy!”

Jake and Mrs. Franks come over to him, and as soon as his eyes spot the pumpkin of Noah’s choice, Jake finds himself gulping. “Wow, you’ve definitely found the largest one…” Dreading all the work it will be to carve it. “Are you sure a _slightly_ smaller one wouldn’t do as well?”

Noah’s excited expression immediately darkens into a frown. “I want this one,” he insists with a pout. “If we won’t have a Halloween party, I at least need the coolest pumpkin for the trick or treat.”

The Halloween party… Yeah… Noah’s been down about that for days, ever since the decision had been made that last year’s Halloween party – an event the entire ranch had celebrated on the central square – wouldn’t be repeated. Not because people hadn’t liked it. The decision against it had been made out of sheer organizational reasons.

Noah on the other hand, who’d enjoyed last year’s party so much, with everyone wearing costumes and eating Halloween-themed food, had naturally been so disappointed to learn there wouldn’t be another one this year. So Alicia and Jake had come up with the idea he could instead carve a pumpkin, put on a costume himself and celebrate Halloween with a round of trick or treat.

Eventually, Noah had accepted, but if he now didn’t get the pumpkin he’d set his mind on, Jake fears he might quickly go back into sulking mode.

Luckily, Mrs. Franks manages to come up with the perfect argument. “Well, you’re planning on visiting everyone on Halloween with your pumpkin, don’t you? To get as much candy as possible, right?” she asks Noah with a motherly voice.

“Of course,” Noah confirms with determination.

“Well, a huge pumpkin like that is really heavy and you’ll have to carry it for a long time,” she points out. “Are you sure you don’t want to pick a lighter one, that’s just a tiny little bit smaller?”

“No, I want this one,” Noah insists. “I can carry it!” And to prove his claim, he crouches down next to the pumpkin, puts his arms around it and tries to lift it – but fails miserably. “Oh…” he murmurs with disappointment, as soon as he gets Mrs. Frank’s point.

(In all fairness, the carved version of the pumpkin would be much lighter to carry, but Jake didn’t find it necessary to point that out…)

“Okay…” Noah whispers a bit sheepishly. “Then maybe the one over there?”

 

***

 

When the world had ended, the future felt like a dark place to Alicia. With everything that actually made mankind human suddenly gone, there was no hope anymore, no use in striving to be good, to achieve any higher goals. There simply wasn’t a _point_ anymore.

The only thing that still mattered was survival. Plain and utter survival. And a person who fights for their life doesn’t care about literature.

For months, Alicia had believed that, and she’d come to accept that this was the way things were now. Yielding to that credo, there wasn’t any pressure anymore to even just _try_ to change anything about it, to still attribute value to things that didn’t involve a knife, a loaded gun or a convenient way to manipulate your enemies to secure your own survival.

Ironically, the latter may or may not have been the very reason things started with Jake in the first place. Jake, the one person in the world who proved her wrong. Who restored her faith. Who gave her the courage to turn back into the person she used to be. Alicia Clark. The girl who believes in good.

She’d fancied him right in the beginning, sure. They’d been through traumatizing events together: The helicopter crash, the excruciating hike back to the ranch with Nick’s injured girlfriend. And yet. In the end, none of that had made her go for that kiss. At the very core of her heart, she knew she’d done it because she was trying to gain influence over him, contribute to her and her family’s survival by securing their place at the ranch, like she’d seen her mother do with Troy (albeit in a less physical way).

Oh, she couldn’t have been more wrong.

The one who really gained influence had been Jake, over her, with his unshakeable faith, his righteousness, his genuine goodness. Jake was the person Alicia had always strived to be. And whereas she’d caved in to this new world, he had the strength to preserve all of those virtues, despite all the madness surrounding them.

She’d fallen in love with this man. He became her friend, her love, her shining paragon – and eventually the father of her child.

And so, in time, this place and the people she’d originally been so wary of grew to be her home, her family. Even though her life was nothing like the life teenage Alicia had pictured for herself, the thought of things having turned out even just in a slightly different way actually gives her a sting in the heart. The thought of never having met Jake seems unbearable. Without him, who knows what kind of person she would have become. She can’t tell. But she does know that she wouldn’t have liked that person very much.

And more than that. If she hadn’t met Jake, Noah would have never been born. And a world without his smile could only be a dark and cruel place.

“Mommy, take a look at that!” Noah’s voice reaches her from the distance and as she looks up, she spots her little son running towards her, pulling his handcart along.

She closes the book in her hands, not without putting her thumb inside to bookmark the current page, then sits up on the bench behind their house where she’s been lounging reading ever since she got home from work.

Noah points at two huge pumpkins, looking at her with a proud smile. “This one’s Daddy’s, and that one’s mine.”

“Wow, honey,” Alicia comments hastily, eyes widening in surprise. “That’s amazing… But… Wouldn’t a smaller one have done as well?” That question is actually directed at Jake, who now comes following Noah to the backyard.

Jake only shoots her a sullen look. “That already _is_ the smaller one…” he stage-whispers to her.

“I’ll get spoons!” Noah chimes excitedly, rushing inside to get the necessary tools so they can start carving the pumpkins right away.

“Jesus…” is all Alicia says with a skeptical look, then hastily reopens the book to hide behind the pages, so Jake wouldn’t get the idea of prompting her to help as well.

 

Carving a pumpkin is a tiresome job. Jake knew that from his own childhood, and hell, those pesky vegetables haven’t turned any softer in all those years.

All afternoon, Jake struggles to hollow out the hard pulp, and since it’s such a difficult job, in all honesty, there isn’t much Noah can do to help. So naturally, the boy eventually grows bored. First he heads inside to drink, then he needs to use the bathroom, then he comes up with the next excuse to run off. So eventually, Jake finds himself working on the pumpkins alone.

He didn’t get far with that spoon he originally tried to use. By now he’s proceeded to cut out large chunks of pulp with a sharp knife – which technically isn’t working too well either, since every time he plunges the blade into the pumpkin, it sticks there like Excalibur in the rock, and hell, he can feel King Arthur’s pain pulling it back out time and again.

“How’s it going?” Alicia asks eventually, putting her book down and coming over to him.

“Seriously,” Jake replies with a sigh. “I’m this close to getting the air hammer.”

Alicia can’t help chuckling as she wraps her arms around him from behind. “That’s why, no matter all the equality and emancipation, carving a pumpkin will forever be Daddy’s job.” Planting a gleeful kiss on his cheek, she then gets up and heads inside as well.

“You’re evil,” is all Jake replies, wiping the sweat off his forehead.

Alicia shoots him a smirk over her shoulder. “That’s why you love me.”

“No,” Jake counters, dead-seriouls. “I love you because I’m too lazy to do the cooking.” Cracking a mock-grin, to which Alicia just sticks out her tongue.

 

***

 

Ever since the Halloween party had been canceled, Alicia had thought about a way to make the night special for Noah after all. And she’d thought back to her own childhood: One of the things she’d always loved the most had been the Halloween cookies her mom used to make: Round and a bright orange, with black drops of chocolate. She remembers stealing a handful of them from a jar after returning home from her trick and treat with Nick, feeling all excited and thrilled about the day, and the taste of the cookies has been tied to that feeling ever since. She wants to get that feeling back. For Noah – and also for herself.

So after getting home from the infirmary on Halloween, she prepares all the ingredients in the kitchen and mixes them together, until she’s kneading a smooth dough. One of the ingredients in fact is pumpkin mash (and ever since Jake’s pumpkin carving, there’s no shortage of pulp), but the bright orange color of the dough actually stems from orange food coloring.

She’s just about to form the cookies, when all of a sudden, there’s a high-pitched voice coming from the door.

“Mommy…”

“Yes, honey?” She turns around to look at Noah, but as soon as her eyes meet him, she startles. “Oh, No, sweetie, why didn’t you wait for me? I would have helped!”

Noah’s face is smeared with a mess of black and white color, as is his shirt and the hands. Apparently he tried to apply the skeleton makeup himself. And while he did a decent job painting his face entirely white, the black skull patterns turned out a literal mess. There’s a huge smear of black along his left cheek, and also some clumsily applied stripe of black over his eyes, making him look like he’d been anonymized by a black bar on a TV show.

“I wanted to help _you_ with the makeup…” he confesses, casting his eyes down with disappointment.

“Honey…” Alicia eyes her son for a short while, touched by the crestfallen look on his face. Eventually however, she can’t help chuckling. Putting away the bowl with the dough, she comes over to him, putting her hand on Noah’s shoulder.

“Come on, sweetie. There’s still time.”

 

Sitting on a chair in his room, Noah waits patiently as his mother works on his face with the face paint, a brush and a little sponge. Most of the time he has to keep his eyes shut, even though he’s tempted to catch a first glimpse at how his face’ll look like in the end. Her running the brush over his face again and again tickles a lot, so it’s not that easy to sit still.

“There, here we go,” Alicia eventually says, putting the tools away. “Check it out, honey.”

Noah opens his eyes and gazes at himself in the mirror. There’s a little skeleton staring back at him: Two black circles around his eyes, the nose all black as well to make it look like there was nothing but an empty hole in the middle of his face, and grinning teeth painted on his lips, giving his face the appearance of an actual skull. The skull’s grin however is quickly disrupted when the boy underneath it start to grin himself with merrily shining eyes. The makeup looks so professional, so real! He looks fearsome!

“Thank you so much, Mommy!” Noah chimes, throwing himself at her, little arms wrapping around her waist.

“Careful!” Alicia chuckles, keeping him at a distance. “You don’t wanna smear the paint.”

“Oh, right,” Noah replies, pulling back a little, before shooting her a sheepish but blissful look.

Alicia can’t help smiling as she looks down at her little boy. He’s hands-down the most adorable skeleton she’s ever seen, and because she simply can’t resist, she crouches down to cuddle him quickly after all, planting an affectionate kiss on his hair.

Noah’s just about to protest against this unnecessary display of affection, when they hear a knock on the door coming from downstairs.

“They’re here!” Noah immediately calls merrily, dashing out of the room and hurrying down the stairs.

“Have fun, sweetie!” Alicia calls after him.

Jake’s already opened the door, revealing two no less fearsome creatures in the doorframe. A man with grayish skin color, stitches and seams covering his face and two plugs in his ears. Frankenstein’s monster. Next to him, a hooded figure wearing a long black coat and carrying a scythe.

“We’re here to complete our party with a little skeleton,” the reaper says with a low voice, but the creepiness of the moment is immediately interrupted with Noah squealing with joy as he hurries down the stairs. “Uncle Nick! Uncle Troy! Check out my costume!”

“There he is,” Nick smiles, putting the scythe down. “You look terrifying!”

Noah’s eyes light up at that compliment. “So do you!”

Troy raises the candy bucket he’s been holding in his hands – even his fingers display several seams, making it look as if his hands had been stitched together by some mad scientist.  “Then what are we waiting for?” he asks. “Ready to scare some candy out of folks?”

 

***

 

Alicia watches them from the kitchen window as they head off towards the ranch center in the dusky twilight. _Have fun, sweetie_ , she thinks to herself, a fond smile mixing with the mandatory melancholy a mother always feels watching her kid leave – no matter where and how short.

She doesn’t dwell on it too much, though, as she quickly turns her attention back to the dough, forming little cookie-shaped pieces and putting them on the baking plate.

A few minutes later, she hears footsteps, and without turning around, she calls, “Jake, could you hand me the towel over there, please? My hands are covered in dough.”

There is no reply, but she hears the footsteps approach, and eventually the requested dishcloth is put in her hands.

“Thanks,” she replies, even though the way Jake doesn’t say anything, creeps her out for a second. And indeed – as she’s just about to turn around –, she feels two hands on her shoulders. Then, not even a second later, sharp teeth plunge into her neck. Or rather: blunt plastic teeth.

“Ah, you’re so delicious,” Jake hisses, voice sounding as if he was struggling to speak with a huge chewing gum in his mouth.

Alicia spins round to shoot him a look. “What the…”

Jake bares his teeth at her, and indeed: There’s a set of those cheap plastic vampire teeth in his mouth.

Alicia bursts into laughter immediately. “You gotta be kidding me!” she laughs. “Where on earth did you find those?”

“Actually,” Jake replies, his words barely decipherable, “I have a bunch of Halloween costumes in a box upstairs. At university, we had annual Halloween parties.”

“Okay,” Alicia replies. “I only got half of that, but I think I figured out what you were trying to say.”

Jake frowns for a moment, then removes the teeth from his mouth. “It was ridiculous anyway,” he murmurs, voice back to normal now, even though he can’t entirely hide the slight hint of disappointment.

“Yeah, it was,” Alicia agrees bluntly. Then, with a more amicable voice, she adds: “For the record though, of all the ridiculous vampires,” affectionately smearing a bit of dough on Jake’s nose, “you’re the most handsome.”

Snorting softly at that, Jake returns her look with a smirk – and hell, even with dough on the tip of his nose, he manages to make it a charming one.

A bit more hastily than necessary, Alicia turns away again to clean her hands with the towel, then puts the baking plates into the oven.

“And for the record,” Jake comments, as he wipes the dough off his nose (though not without tasting it), “of all the wannabe bakers, you’re the most enchanting.”

Alicia shuts the oven again, then turns around, leaning back against the counter as she crosses her arms before her chest. “I am?”

“Absolutely,” Jake confirms, and because the confident look on her face is just so irresistible, he can’t help strolling over to her, wrapping his arms around her, and steal a loving kiss.

To his surprise, Alicia catches his lips again in another kiss when he was just about to break away, her delicate fingers finding the back of his neck, teasingly trailing up to his hair.

Surprised at first, Jake quickly snorts. “We don’t know how long they’ll be gone…” he reminds her with a whisper against her lips.

Alicia gives him a teasing bite, then she plants another kiss on his cheek, just to trail her lips along his jaw, down his neck. “I gave Nick clear instructions,” she purrs, her breath tickling warm against his skin, “to take as long as possible.”

“Really?” Jake counters, not without being impressed, and his hands find her hips. “Giving him which excuse?”

“The cookies,” Alicia shrugs as if this was the obvious answer. “Do you even know how long those have to stay in the oven? _Forty-five minutes_.”

“ _Forty-five minutes_ ,” Jake repeats, savoring every syllable as he feels her hands at the collar of his shirt. Not wasting a second of it, he grabs her and lifts her up to sit on the counter. “Oh,” he murmurs, a suggestive grin on his lips as he intensifies the kiss. “Now that’s a recipe I like…”

 

Sometime later, Alicia’s standing at the bedroom window, wearing Jake’s shirt – which looks like an oversized gown on her – gazing into the darkness.

The ranch is lying there peacefully in nightly silence, just now and then a tiny bulb of light flickers in the distance, shaky, moving slowly. Noah and his pumpkin.

Hearing some rustling behind her, she eventually feels a hand on her shoulder, Jake pressing a quick kiss to her hair.

She puts her hand on his. “Even without the Halloween party, I really hope this night turns out to be everything he wished for,” she murmurs slowly. “Even if that just means he gets lots and lots of sweets.”

“Oh, he’ll get lots and lots of sweets,” Jake reassures her quickly. “Troy’s with them, remember? Most people are more scared of him than of Frankenstein’s monster.”

At that, Alicia can’t help chuckling. “I guess you’re right.”

“I’m sure No’s having a great time,” Jake insists. “He’s wearing his costume and he gets to play trick or treat with a fearsome pumpkin, awesomely carved by his dad. All of that’s the essence of Halloween, even if there’s no big party.”

Thinking about her husband’s words for a while, Alicia eventually startles as a different thought crosses her mind. “Wait a minute…” she murmurs, then turns around to look at Jake. “Who said it had to be a _big_ party?”

They share a look and they know they have the same idea at the same moment. “Didn’t you say Nick had instructions to take as long as possible?” he looks at her.

Alicia’s grin turns into a smirk. “And didn’t you say you had a box full of Halloween stuff?”

 

***

 

It’s half past nine when Nick, Troy and Noah return from their “Trick and treat”, as Nick and Troy dubbed it (since the two of them together are “Trick”, and they were out to collect treats. _Yeah…_ ).

To their surprise, the door to Jake and Alicia’s house is ajar. And yet, all the rooms are dark and empty. Not a soul around. At least not downstairs.

Suddenly feeling very uncomfortable, Nick shoots Troy a look, and hisses not without a hint of disgruntlement, “Don’t tell me that _still_ wasn’t long enough?!”

Troy just shrugs back at him helplessly.

At least the house seems quiet and no suspicious noises can be heard. Maybe there’s reason for hope after all.

Whereas Nick and Troy are just confused, the unexpected scenery slowly but surely starts causing some rising discomfort for Noah.

“Uncle Troy!” he whimpers, hand finding his uncle’s, as he stares into the creepy darkness of his own home with his eyes wide open.

“Come on, kiddo, no reason to be scared,” Troy replies quickly, not without letting his hand brush over the kid’s hair reassuringly. “You’re a badass skeleton. No way you’re afraid of the dark!”

“Alicia!” Nick eventually calls, fed up with whatever this is and not caring anymore what he might be interrupting with his calls. “Jake!” Voice growing more and more impatient.

At that moment, however, one of the doors opens with a creaking noise, and suddenly an eerie orange glow appears in the doorframe, slowly approaching them with spooky noises. Another pumpkin with glowing eyes and a wicked grin.

“Welcome!” A deep voice chants, though it’s kinda obvious it’s Jake’s, just in a deeper tone. “I suppose you’ve been successful on your hunt for candy?”

Troy gives Noah a quick nudge to reply.

“Y-yes, we have,” Noah squeaks with a stammer.

“Then I’d say that’s a reason to celebrate!” Another voice replies, this time it’s Alicia imitating an elderly woman.

The lights are switched on, and immediately, Noah’s eyes light up as he spots the living room, neatly decorated with dark cloths, plastic spiders on a web, a few paper bats hanging from the ceiling and a huge bowl of bright (and slightly burnt) orange Halloween cookies on the coffee table.

The highlight for Noah however are his parents, now appearing in the doorframe: His dad wearing a long cape and smirking at him with dangerously sharp vampire teeth, his mom wearing a rugged old skirt, a huge hat, her hair tousled and unkempt, and in her hand a large broom.

“Mommy, Daddy!! You’re amazing!” Noah calls immediately, running towards them and giving them a big hug, not caring about the risk of his face paint smearing anymore.

They hug him back, smiling at each other on Noah’s excitement.

“You ready for our big small Halloween party?” Jake asks his son, softly ruffling his hair. “After all, we need to devour all those delicious sweets you’ve collected!”

“You’re invited, too, of course,” Alicia tells Nick and Troy. “I brew a cauldron of witches’ potion,” she tells Noah, who immediately seems thrilled. And with a look at Nick and Troy, she adds: “There’s an alcoholic and a non-alcoholic version in the kitchen.”

“So what do you say, buddy?” Troy asks his little nephew. “Wanna check it out?”

“Yeah!” Noah chimes merrily, hopping over to Troy to lead him to the kitchen.

“I’ve seen you put your time to good use,” Nick comments ominously, raising his eyebrows at them.

Alicia and Jake just shoot him innocent looks.

“The cookies have to stay in the oven for forty-five minutes…” Alicia reminds him.

Nick nods at her ironically. “Or maybe a bit longer,” he comments, before snatching one of the cookies from the bowl and shoving it into his mouth. “Hmh…” he hums with surprise. “Tastes like the good old times.”

Alicia can’t help shooting her brother a grin. “True,” she agrees, “even though I guess also the new times can be good.”

“Magical potion, coming right in!” Noah and Troy announce as they return with glasses of creepily green juice and hand them to everyone, the alcoholic version for Jake, Alicia and Nick, the alcohol-free one for Noah and Troy.

They all clink glasses with a smile. “Happy Halloween!”

And not even a quarter later, the family is gathered on the sofa, Noah comfortably on Alicia’s lap, whereas she’s leaning against Jake, his arm pulling her close. Next to them, Nick and Troy, the former with his legs stretched out leisurely over the latter’s lap. On the TV screen, one of the most iconic Halloween children movies of all times: _Casper_.

Alicia hugs Noah like a teddy bear, watching as the little ghost plays his pranks on the father and daughter moving into his house, her chin on Noah’s shoulder, enjoying the warmth and happiness of this moment, with her family around.

_That’s it,_ she thinks to herself, a soft smile on her lips. _That’s the point._


	8. El Loro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, once again it took me a while to update, I'm really sorry! But now I finally finished the first part of the two chapter arc I've been looking forward to writing for a long time: Nick and Troy at El Bazar for a life or death mission.
> 
> I guess this has turned into my longest chapter in this entire series so far, but hey, it does actually have a plot ;)
> 
> Hope you'll enjoy the mixture of suspense, action and romance :)

[Since this arc is going to run for several chapters, I decided to extract this chapter and turn it into a separate story. Please find it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17312042/chapters/40721891]


	9. The Joy of Christmas Present

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, I hope you're enjoying the last few days until Christmas! Just like last year, I've decided to write a little Christmas chapter on them, to get into the holiday mood :)
> 
> It's pretty independent from the rest of the fic, so it can also be read as a one-shot for everyone who isn't following the overall story. All you need to know is that Nick and Troy have been a couple for several years by now and Alicia and Jake had a little son named Noah. Otherwise you're all set to dive right into the Christmas spirit.
> 
> Unfortunately, I didn't manage to finish the second part of the previous chapter (El Loro) in time, so sorry for the little interruption despite last chapter's cliffhanger. Once the second part is posted, I'm gonna switch the chapters so everything is in order again.
> 
> Now enough with the talking. Hope you'll enjoy this year's Christmas episode :)

*** Nick Clark ***

 

_‘Is it too late to come up with a Christmas list now?’_

_‘It’s worth giving it a shot.’_

_‘Alright... Actually, there’s only one wish I have... I wish for us to be happy like this… for all the Christmases yet to come.’_

_A loving chuckle._

_‘That’s indeed a very good wish.’_

 

On one of the Christmases past, a heartfelt wish had been whispered into the darkness of a wonderful Christmas night. Today, the very same day seven years later, that wish is still holding true.

As Nick’s standing by the kitchen window, keeping his eyes open for his boyfriend to return, there’s a pleasant feeling of happiness filling his heart. A content warmth. A merry thrill. _It’s Christmas._

Eventually, he spots Troy’s familiar figure approaching the house, and Nick immediately rushes to the door, opening with a broad smile on his face. “Hey, Troy.”

“Hey, Nicky,” Troy replies, eying his boyfriend with a skeptical look, then he can’t help rolling his eyes fondly. “I see you couldn’t do without the Santa hat.”

“It’s _Christmas_ ,” Nick defends with a shrug. “I only got the chance to wear it once a year, so I can’t really afford to miss a single second.” Then a nod at Troy. “How was patrol?”

“Good, good,” Troy replies nonchalantly. “Those rotting suckers must be getting ready for Christmas as well, not many of them around today.”

“A true Christmas miracle, then,” Nick comments with a sententious voice, then he points over his shoulder. “Tree’s waiting for us in the living room.”

“Great,” Troy smiles back at him. “Just give me a sec, then we can get started right away.” He’s just about to push past Nick, when the latter suddenly stops him, putting his hand on Troy’s chest to hold him back.

“Ah, ah, ah, not so fast…”

Puzzled, Troy blinks at him.

Grin widening, Nick points up. “I may have also put up the occasional Christmas decoration…”

Gazing up, Troy can’t help snorting as he spots the mistletoe dangling above them. Then he raises his eyebrows at Nick. “As if we needed a reason for that…”

And as he wraps his arms around his boyfriend’s waist, he lets himself be pulled into a playful, loving Christmas kiss.

 

Not even an hour later, Nick and Troy are already well in the middle of decorating the Christmas tree Nick put up in the morning.

For Nick, this has become a very fond Christmas tradition over the years. With the rest of the family not yet around, this task involves just Troy and him, working side by side, in peace and quietness, hanging Christmas bauble after Christmas bauble on the branches.

And by watching the plain tree slowly but surely turn into a Christmas tree, Nick also feels himself getting in the mood for Christmas, a pleasant, comfortable warmth starting to fill his heart. 

“I’ve already put out the dishware for later,” Nick informs Troy after a while, taking another wire hanger from the package, hooking it into the next bauble and putting it on the tree. “And I managed to snatch the last bottle of mulled wine from the pantry.”

“And here I was,” Troy counters with a mock sigh, “hoping that this cup would pass me this year…”

“It will,” Nick replies with a shrug. “Just as long as it doesn’t pass me…” Letting out a silly snicker.

“Just promise me you’ll take it easy, okay?” Troy says nevertheless, taking a step back to scan the tree for another gap. It’s somehow become their thing to hang the baubles in perfectly symmetric patterns – an inside joke started on their first Christmas together and a tradition ever since. Once he’s found a fit spot, he turns his eyes back to Nick. “I don’t have to remind you of that one time you ended up under the kitchen table warbling _Last Christmas_.”

“Oh, that was fun,” Nick chuckles as if reminiscing a fond memory.

Troy can’t help commenting with an amicable snort. “Only for you, my friend.”

“Come on!” Nick protests, “you make it sound like I was some sorry drunk. I had one glass of wine, and I was under the kitchen table because I’d dropped a chocolate truffle. As for the song,” playfully giving his boyfriend a gentle kick in the shin, “what is Christmas without a well-performed classic?” And without being prompted, Nick starts chiming teasingly: “ _Laaast Christmas, I gave you my heart–_ ”

“Please don’t,” Troy complains, mock covering his ears.

“ _But the very next day, you gave it awaaay…_ ” Good-naturedly hanging the next bauble. “ _Thiiis year, to save me from tears–_ “

“Okay, thank you very much for that lovely performance,” Troy babbles in between, but Nick mostly ignores him. “I’m getting the feeling you already had the occasional cup of mulled wine today, haven’t you?”

Once the refrain is finally over, Troy lets out a sigh of relief – but Nick relentlessly takes up the second verse: “ _Once bitten, twice shy–_ “

“I yield…” Troy resigns.

Nick flicks his fingers and points at Troy. “ _I keep my distance, but you still catch my eye…_ ” Mock checking him out. “ _Tell me baby, do you recognize me?”_ And with a few exaggerated dance moves, he starts coming towards Troy, beckoning him over with his finger. _“Well, it’s been a year, it doesn’t surprise me!_ ”

He does end up surprised though, as Troy actually complies. But as the latter’s just about to reach for him and wrap his arms around him, Nick notices the devious glistening in his boyfriend’s eyes. A second too late. He doesn’t even get the chance to react. With a quick, deft movement of his hand, Troy has snatched the Santa hat off Nick’s head.

“Hey!!” Nick complains immediately, hastily reaching for the stolen item, but Troy’s already turned around, shielding the theft with his body, letting out a gleeful chuckle.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have done that, my friend…” Nick growls, launching yet another attack to retrieve the hat, determined not to relent easily.

At that, a little brawl ensues, both men snorting and snickering as they try to gain the upper hand, and it doesn’t take long until Troy manages to wrestle Nick to the ground, straddling him to keep the latter one from toppling him over.

The Santa hat still in his hand, he shoots Nick a smug look as he threatens to toss the hat away. “No more _Last Christmas_ for this year’s holidays?”

Nick glares at him with a defiant frown. “You’re evil.”

 “I am?” Troy winds up. “Last chance.”

“Okay, okay, I promise,” Nick hastily gives in with a pout. “No more _Last Christmas_ for this year’s holidays.”

“Good boy,” Troy comments with a smirk, slapping the hat back on Nick’s head. With a pleased grin on his face, he’s just about to get up again, when Nick starts moving underneath him and before he even realizes what’s going on, he feels himself getting toppled over after all.

Nick props himself up on his elbow, gazing down at Troy with a sly look on his face. “No one said anything about Mariah Carey, though,” he announces and immediately starts merrily: “ _Make my wish come true – uh, baby all I want for Christmas…_ ”

Troy’s just about to protest with a bugged groan, when Nick grabs his collar and leans down to him, cupping his cheek before letting his hand run through Troy’s fluffy hair, playfully messing it up while bringing his lips to his lover’s in a soft, savoring kiss.

A whisper. “ _…is you…_ ”

 

*** Noah Otto ***

 

All day long, Noah’s been giddy with excitement. Finally, it’s Christmas.

No other day conveyed that very same mixture of excitement, comfort and magic – he knows that from his five years of life experience. Not to mention the presents he might get from Santa! Just thinking of that makes him feel thrilled and nervous at the same time.

Walking between his parents – a Santa’s hat on his head just like Uncle Nick always wears during the holidays –  eventually his uncles’ house comes into sight, the place where they usually celebrate Christmas.

“Merry Christmas!” his grandma greets as she opens the door. She must have arrived early.

“Merry Christmas, Grandma,” Noah chimes, immediately giving her a hug. “I'm so excited to meet Santa!” he informs her.

“Hey buddy,” Uncle Troy pops up in the door next to his grandma, wishing them Merry Christmas as well.

Without wasting another second, Noah immediately squeezes past him and hurries for the living room, to make sure he hasn’t missed anything important yet.

But as he turns around the corner, his eyes come to rest on the huge, glittering Christmas tree, and he can't help but marvel, feeling the magic of Christmas like a tickling feeling all over his body.

From the corridor, he absentmindedly hears the merry chatting of his family, as more Christmas wishes are exchanged.

“Where is Nick?” his mom eventually asks.

“Had to take over Liam’s patrol shift last minute,” Uncle Troy replies. “Shouldn't take long though, he'll definitely make it for dinner.”

“Uncle Troy,” Noah calls then, pointing at the Christmas tree. “The tree topper’s missing!”

Uncle Troy is with him in the blink of an eye. “Geez, you’re right! Silly us, we must’ve forgotten about it! Good catch buddy!”

Proudly, Noah smiles back at him.

Uncle Troy turns around and pulls a beautifully crafted tree topper from one of the drawers, handing it to Noah. “Why don't you do us the honor?” And with that, he wraps his arms around Noah and picks him up so the boy is able to reach up and place the topper on the tree.

“Good job, kiddo,” Uncle Troy smiles as he sets him back down. “Now that the tree’s complete, I guess we’re all set for Santa’s visit, aren’t we?”

 

All set, indeed. And yet. Santa seems to take his time.

With every passing minute, Noah feels himself growing more anxious. What kind of gifts will Santa bring him? And what if Santa knows about the chocolate muffin he snatched last week although he hadn’t been allowed to? What if Santa decides he shouldn’t receive any presents at all?!

“He won’t come,” Noah whines eventually, slouching his shoulders.

“Of course he will,” his grandma assures him quickly. “It’s just a bit too early. He’ll only head out for his sleigh ride once it’s dark.” She points outside. “But take a look at the windows. It can’t be long now.” And with that, she takes his hand and leads him over to her bag, where she pulls out a colorful story book and shows it to Noah.

“How about I read you a little story to pass the wait?”

He starts eying the book reluctantly. “What kind of story?”

“It’s called _A Christmas Carol_ ,” Madison explains. “It’s about an old, grumpy man who doesn’t enjoy Christmas at all. He’s always mean to the people around him, until one Christmas, three friendly spirits come to visit him. The Ghost of Christmas Past, the Ghost of Christmas Present and the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come. They show him how beautiful the holidays can be if you just open your heart and spend them with your loved ones.”

Noah’s been listening to her attentively, and indeed, he decides he might indeed enjoy a little Christmas story right now.

So they settle down in the living room, the sparking lights of the Christmas tree shining brighter and brighter the more night starts settling over the ranch. His mom joins them too, sitting down on the couch next to him, and his grandma starts reading the first few sentences – when all of a sudden… _thud, thud, thud_. A heavy knock on the door.

Noah immediately winces hard and is on his feet in an instant, heart starting to pound in his chest.

His dad and Uncle Troy emerge from the kitchen, shooting him surprised and curious looks.

“Santa Claus?!” Noah asks his dad, eyes open wide with anxiousness.

“I think so…?” his dad replies, watching as Uncle Troy heads for the door.

Seconds later, there’s the sound of heavy boots on wooden floor, then a large, red figure appears in the doorframe.

Noah holds his breath, gaping at the large man with the puffy coat, the long beard and the promising looking sack in his hands. Santa Claus.

“Ho, ho, ho,” Santa says, as he enters the room, face almost completely hidden behind the bushy white beard. It moves in a funny way when he speaks.

The man’s smile, however, is perfectly visible and Noah can see sympathy sparkling in his eyes – and yet, he’s petrified.

“You must be little Noah, aren’t you?” Santa starts, sitting down on the chair prepared for him by the Christmas tree. “Merry Christmas to you, little fellow!”

Noah just stares at the man.

“ _Merry Christmas to you, too, Santa_ ,” his mom whispers into his ear, stroking his arm encouragingly.

“M-Merry Christmas to you, too,” Noah stammers hastily, his squeaky children’s voice cutting through the silence weakly.

“There’s no need to be afraid, young man,” Santa says encouragingly, beckoning him over. “Why don’t you come here and help me find out which gifts my little elves have packed for you?”

The prospect of presents seems to boost the boy’s courage – he takes a few steps towards Santa, then, however, involuntarily he freezes again.

And right at that moment, he feels his dad’s encouraging hand on his shoulder.

“Come on, buddy,” he says with a smile, taking Noah’s hand, and together they make their way to Santa.

“It’s very nice to see you again, Noah,” Santa says with his deep, full voice. “You’ve grown so tall ever since… _last Christmas_.” His eyes stealthily trail to Troy for a second, then his attention is back with Noah. He leans in to the boy conspiratorially. “Do you want to know a secret?”

Noah’s got his eyes fixed on Santa. A bit reluctantly, he nods.

“Okay,” Santa says, then reaches for him and pulls him on his lap. “The gift I have for you is so big, it didn’t even fit into my sack.”

At that, Noah’s eyes light up with excitement, and a sheepish smile starts covering his face. It’s so adorable, Santa has to suppress a tiny grin himself.

“But first I have to ask…” His expression turns more strict. “Have you been a good kid this year?”

Noah doesn’t meet his eyes, but ends up looking at a random spot on the Christmas tree. After a few blinks, however, he nods.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…”

At that, Santa lets out a chuckle after all. “I know you’ve been,” he says softly, smiling at the child fondly. “Alright.” Then he sets Noah back down. “I think my elves must be done carrying your gift inside by now. Shall we take a look?”

At that, Noah nods enthusiastically. “Yes!” Still not letting go of his daddy’s hand though.

Nervously, he and his dad follow Santa into the corridor, where right there, next to the entrance door, there’s a shiny, emerald colored children’s bike with a red bow around the handlebars.

Noah holds his breath in excitement, and immediately, the shyness is gone as he rushes towards his wonderful gift.

“Wow, isn’t that amazing, honey?” his mom says, as she and the rest of the family comes following them.

“And no training wheels anymore,“ Santa comments smugly. “You’re a big boy now.”

“Thank you!” Noah calls excitedly. “Thank you so much, Santa!” Already in the middle of mounting the bike. “I wished for this so badly!”

“Wait, buddy, not so fast,” his dad calls hastily, grabbing the bike last second to stabilize it before Noah topples over with it. “Let’s try it outside,” he offers amicably. “First thing tomorrow morning, okay? When it’s light again.”

At that, Noah looks at his dad, disappointment in his eyes.

But Santa’s already reached into his sack. “Gee, what have we here! I think there’s a present for you in here after all!”

Noah pricks his ears.

Santa pulls out a wrapped gift, handing it to Noah. “A little something for the rainy days – or evenings for that matter.”

“Wow, thank you!” Noah chimes, eyes sparkling with happiness.

Santa smiles down at him. “You’re a good kid, Noah – don’t let that change.” Ruffing his hair fondly as he passes the child. “And next year, you’ll have to show me how good you’ve become riding that bike.”

“I will!” Noah promises with a smile, hugging his gift like a plushie.

Santa makes his way to the door. As soon as he’s reached it, he turns around one last time, raising his hand to wave at the family. “Merry Christmas, everyone!”

“Merry Christmas!” they all reply in unison – and with that, Santa heads outside, back to his reindeer, back to his sleigh, to make sure every good kid in the New World gets a little bit of happiness on a magical Christmas Eve.

 

*** Alicia Otto ***

 

For Alicia, the biggest Christmas gift is being able to spend this time of the year with her family together and healthy – just as much as seeing the smile on her little son’s face as he merrily unwraps his present with shining eyes.

“A slot car track!” he hisses enthusiastically, presenting the package of his new toy to the rest of the family. “This is so cool! I wanna try it out right away!”

“After dinner, honey,” Alicia offers amicably. “The turkey’s ready in a minute.”

Of course, that hardly stops Noah from unboxing his gift anyway – at least until Nick returns from his “last minute patrol shift”. He hardly makes it to the living room before being ambushed by Noah, who immediately grabs him by the sleeve to introduce him to his new toys.

Alicia, Madison and Jake, meanwhile, take care of the final preparations for the Christmas dinner. And as soon as everything’s ready and the family is gathered around the dining table, Jake and Nick – as every year – take care of carving the turkey, a ritual they’ve over the years become so accustomed to, they by now work together in total sync, like a professional duo of chefs serving Christmas dinner.

Soon, the room is filled with the cozy jingling of cutlery and they all enjoy the special food on this very special night.

About half an hour later, when most of the delicacies have been eaten up and the family’s jointly clearing the table, Alicia stops as she suddenly hears quiet voices coming from outside.

Curiously, she takes a step towards the door leading to the porch, just to find it ajar. And out there, she spots Jake leaning against the wooden rail, Noah sitting next to him, both of them gazing into the nightly sky.

“I’m sure he’ll pass us any second now,” she hears her husband’s muffled voice, “we need to look closely…”

“Can we also see Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer?” Noah asks, eyes narrowed as he keeps staring at the starry sky.

“Of course! Rudolph’s guiding the sleigh,” Jake insists. “How else would Santa have found his way here?”

Strangely endeared, Alicia wraps her cardigan around herself more tightly, as she just stands there in silence, listening to their quiet conversation, as they discuss a fairytale with all due solemnity.

“Oh, gosh, there it is!” Jake calls all of a sudden, pointing at a seemingly random spot on the sky. “Did you see that? That light that flashed up over there like a shooting star just now? I think that was him!”

“I saw it, too!” Noah chimes immediately, the final bits of insecurity gone as soon as he turns around and spots his mother on the doorframe.

“Mommy!” he calls immediately, jumping off the rail and running towards her. “We just saw Santa soar across the sky with his sleigh.”

“Aw, that’s wonderful, sweetie!” Alicia replies, crouching down in front of him with a fond smile.

“Where is he going next? Is he flying back to the north pole now?”

“Oh, I’m not sure, honey,” Alicia purses her lips. “I think he still got a long night ahead. Maybe he’s heading for the next country?” Looking up at Jake. “What do you think, Daddy?”

Pondering theatrically, Jake eventually takes a glimpse at his watch. “Sweden, I’d say.”

“Sweden…!” Alicia and Noah both repeat in awe, and realizing their tone sounded exactly the same, they look at each other, bursting into a snicker. 

 

Assembling a slot car track is way more difficult than expected, as it apparently requires three grown men and a little kid to study the manual with concentrated glances.

Alicia just snorts at them fondly, deciding to enjoy the fresh evening air outside some more, as eventually Madison joins her, offering her a glass of mulled wine.

“Care for a cup?” she asks her daughter, who accepts with a quiet chuckle.

“A warm drink for a cold night,” she counters, blowing at the steaming liquid. “Sure.

“No’s so excited about his presents,” Madison says with a fond smile, nodding at the door. “The bike and the slot car were great ideas.”

“A bike has been on his Christmas list for months,” Alicia replies. “Nick promised to keep his eyes open during the supply runs and I knew this one was perfect when he showed it to me.”

“Just FYI,” Madison shoots her a glance, “I can assure you from personal experience that teaching a kid how to ride a bike is more strenuous for the parents than for the children themselves.”

“I think I’ll leave that part to Jake,” Alicia replies with a grin. “I’ll be happy to stand at the side of the road and take care of the cheering. Even though…” Her laughter dies down and her face suddenly grows a bit melancholic as she gazes over to the door. “Imagining him riding a bike… He’s growing up so fast… Soon he won’t believe in having spotted Santa Claus’s sleigh in the sky anymore.”

Madison doesn’t reply to that, just strokes her daughters arm softly. “But there will be a whole new bunch of ways he will make you proud.”

 

A few minutes later, as Madison and Alicia step back inside, they are greeted by a round of loud laughter and cheering. Making their way back to the living room, they spot Troy, Jake and Nick standing around the racing track, controllers in their hands, excitedly racing the cars round sharp corners and into dangerous loops.

Noah, on the other hand, is sitting on the sofa, Madison’s story book in his hands, gazing at the illustrations with a sleepy look on his face.

“Now take a look at that,” Alicia can't help snickering. “Why am I starting to wonder whose day Santa _actually_ made with that gift.”

 

*** Troy Otto ***

 

Eventually, it’s bedtime for Noah and as Alicia takes him upstairs to tuck him in, Madison and Jake start taking care of the dishes, letting the dirty plates soak in the sink.

Troy’s just about to head over to the kitchen to join them, when all of a sudden, a voice calls his name.

Turning around, he spots Nick approaching him by the Christmas tree.

“What is it?” Troy asks, noticing the smile on his boyfriend’s lips. “Everything alright?”

“Sure,” Nick replies with a nod, then stops right in front of Troy. “It’s a wonderful Christmas, isn’t it?”

Troy replies with a chuckle.

“Actually…” Nick’s smile turns into a smirk. “Santa left something for you as well.”

For a second, Troy blinks at him, then his expression turns into a frown. “Nick,” Troy calls him reproachfully. “We don’t give each other any gifts.”

It’s true. It’s been tradition for all those years. In a world, in which there are no real possessions anymore, you can’t just head into the next best shop and buy your loved ones some random, unnecessary stuff. In the New World, all raids come with the risk of getting hurt or even getting killed, and no one wants their family members risking their lives for another unneeded necktie or pair of socks. So the only one ever receiving presents on Christmas has been Noah.

And there’s really no need for that to change.

“I know,” Nick replies with a shrug. “But I came across it by chance and I think you can really use it.”

He’s been hiding something behind his back all along, now revealing a little wrapped box, presenting it to Troy.

It’s a small jewelry box, that’s obvious. So as Troy accepts it with a half grateful, half still reproachful smile, he can’t help commenting with a chuckle: “Oh, wow… _I do_!”

“Ha, ha,” Nick counters with a snort. “If you’re expecting a ring now, you’re gonna be so disappointed.”

“What is it, then?” Troy inspects the little box with rising curiosity.

“Open it,” Nick suggests.

And open is what Troy does. Slowly, carefully, he lifts the lid of the box – just to find a small, dark brown piece of leather inside.

“It’s a new wristband for your watch,” Nick explains quickly. “Wanted to get you an entirely new watch at first, but I know how much you like yours. So I thought if we just replace the worn out wristband, your old watch will be as good as new.”

“Ah, that’s so sweet of you, Nicky, thank you,” Troy replies, giving his boyfriend a heartfelt hug before planting a kiss on his hair. “It’s even the same shade as my current one.” Holding the new wristband next to his old watch for comparison.

“Right?” Nick chuckles with a proud smile. “That’s why I just _had_ to grab it.”

“It’s such a good idea.” Shooting him a loving smile. “Thank you, Nick, really.” And as Nick looks back at him, eyes practically shining with happiness and affection – or maybe it is just the fairy lights reflected in his eyes –, Troy feels a strange mixture of blissfulness and melancholy in his heart. Once again, he realizes how much, how deeply he loves this person. So without even thinking about it for too long, he suddenly says: “For the record though, I _really_ do.”

Nick returns the look with a wry grin. “You do what?”

“I _do_ ,” Troy insist, face suddenly entirely serious.

The way his boyfriend looks at him gets Nick to raise his eyebrows. “You do?” he asks, unsure if he understands.

A sudden euphoria surges over Troy as he realizes that _yes_ , this is what he actually wants. “I do!” he confirms once more, surprised by his own words.

Nick’s eyes widen as he realizes what’s actually happening right now, and without even thinking about it for a second, Nick blurts out: “I do, too!”

Disbelief and excitement are mixing in both of their faces, they stare at each other for a few blinks, then, all of a sudden, a surge of euphoria hits them, as they realize what just happened.

“Did we just get engaged?!” Nick asks, shaking his head speechlessly as he lets out a helpless laughter.

“I think we did!” Troy shakes his head, snorting with shining eyes.

“But we don’t have any rings!” Nick reminds him, suddenly genuinely worried by that fact.

“True… even though, maybe…” Troy lets his eyes roam across the room, until they eventually come to rest on the Christmas tree. “I mean… It’s not as classy as daisy chains, coke can tabs or guitar string pieces we know from movies, but hey, necessity begets ingenuity, no?” He reaches for one of the Christmas baubles, removes it from the tree – and unhooks the wire hanger.

Nick can’t help letting out a snicker as he realizes what Troy’s just about to do. “It’s perfect, actually,” he whispers with a chuckle as he holds out his hand to his boyfriend.

Troy bends the hanger round his own finger to form a ring, then removes it from his hand and slips it onto Nick’s finger.

Nick’s eyes sparkle with honest joy and excitement as he gazes at the fragile, silver line gracing his hand. “It’s so us,” Nick chuckles eventually. “Makeshift, unconventional, a little crazy…”

“But with its very own, distinct charm,” Troy agrees, watching as Nick in return prepares another ring.

And as the makeshift jewelry is slipped on his finger, he catches himself holding his breath for a moment. The thin wire around his finger feels strange and unfamiliar, but the meaning that comes with it... Lovingly, he gazes into his boyfriend’s – no, fiancé’s – eyes, for a moment losing himself in them.

_Who would have guessed_ , Troy thinks to himself as he leans in to Nick, bringing their lips together in a passionate kiss, _they’d have a wonderful Christmas gift like that waiting for them by the Christmas tree._

 

*** Jake Otto ***

 

While Alicia’s gone to put Noah to bed and Nick and Troy are busy making sheep’s eyes at each other by the Christmas tree, Jake has started setting the game board on the dining table.

With just a few candles lit to set the right mood, it’s time for the ancient Clark, now Otto/Clark Christmas tradition of playing a round of Clue.

Jake’s just in the middle of shuffling the cards, as Madison joins him, carrying a few bowls of snacks. As she puts them around the game board, the rest of the family slowly but surely gathers round the table as well – Troy and Nick still with the dreamy smiles on their faces –, so not even five minutes later, they’re already in the middle of solving the murder mystery.

When it’s Troy’s turn and he reaches for the dice to roll, the flickering light of the candles is reflected by a delicate piece of jewelry on his hand… Jake blinks, raising his eyebrows. “Wait. Is that a ring you’re wearing, brother?”

Immediately, the rest of the family looks up from their game notes, everyone’s attention focusing on the makeshift engagement ring, and Alicia – sitting next to Nick – doesn’t hesitate a second, but leans back in her chair to catch a glimpse at her brother’s hands on his lap as well – and there it is indeed. Another ring.

“Don’t tell me you guys just got engaged?!” she calls, slamming her cards face-down on the table. She knows for a fact that those rings hadn’t been there during dinner. She would have noticed.

“Well,” Nick starts, hardly able to contain his grin, and ostensibly puts his hands on the table, so everyone can see the matching piece of jewelry. “Looks like we both were in for an unexpected Christmas surprise,” he says, shooting Troy a quick look.

“It sort of just happened,” Troy replies, returning Nick’s gaze lovingly. “But that doesn’t make it any less heartfelt.”

“My God, congratulations, then!” Jake immediately calls, getting up from his chair. He comes over to Troy, pulling his brother into a hug. “That’s a wonderful Christmas surprise, indeed – and it’s been about time!”

Alicia and Madison are on their feet as well now, pulling Nick into their arms and showering him with the best of wishes.

Jake immediately hurries into the kitchen to get a bottle of champagne to toast to the occasion.

_My, who would have ever guessed?_ he thinks to himself as he fills the glasses. His baby brother Troy, the hopeless cause… And now he’s celebrating his engagement on a wonderful Christmas Eve…

_We sure have come a long way, haven’t we?_

For a moment, the dark memory of one of the many Christmases of their childhood crosses his mind. Troy and him sitting in front of the TV, Jake turning up the volume to the maximum in order to drown out the screams of Dad and Tracy fighting, so little Troy wouldn’t have to hear them and be scared. And yet. Most of the Christmases had ended in tears nevertheless.

_Not today._

It almost sounds like some irony of fate that at the very same day decades later, Troy would be exchanging rings with the one he loves, the one who pulled him from the darkest depths and set him on a different path. The path that led them to this very moment. To happiness.

_It’s not just that I’m good for Troy, or Troy’s good for me. Troy and I, we’re good for each other,_ Nick’s words from years ago resound in his head and Jake can’t help smiling.

He’s happy for his brother, in more than just one way.

“Careful, everyone,” Jake says, as he returns to the dining room, setting down his tray next to the game board and handing out the glasses of champagne – grape juice for Troy – to the others.

Alicia and Madison are still in the middle of inspecting the rings.

“Don’t tell me that’s a twisted Christmas bauble hanger?!” Madison frowns, skeptically shaking her head.

“Told you,” Nick defends. “ _Makeshift_.”

“You should have kept the bauble,” Alicia comments with a smirk. “Would have made for a nice gemstone.”

“They can keep that in mind for the actual wedding rings, no?” Madison joins in on the teasing. “Considering their apparent creativity…”

“Woah, woah, _wedding_?!” Nick chips in, raising his hands. “I think we better not rush things…”

“You’re the respectable couple,” Troy adds, nodding at Jake and Alicia. “We’re the cool, unconventional couple.”

“The cool, unconventional couple who just stuffily got engaged,” Jake adds, shooting them an ironic grin.

“Exactly,” Nick deadpans with a pleased nod.

“Well, whatever it is,” Alicia says, raising her glass, “it’s a reason to celebrate, isn’t it?”

“Celebrate what?”

To everyone’s surprise, Noah standing in the doorframe in his pajamas, his plush lion in his arm, sleepily rubbing his eyes.

“Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry,” Alicia calls immediately. “Did we wake you up?”

He looks at her with a little pout. “I want to be part of the celebration, too.”

“Uncle Nick and Uncle Troy just got engaged,” Jake informs him quickly.

“Engaged?” Noah repeats with a blink, coming over to his mother to let himself be taken into her arms.

“It means they promised each other to get married one day,” she explains, as she picks him up and plants a quick kiss on his cheek.

“When?” Noah wants to know. “Hopefully soon. I’ve always wanted to eat a piece of one of those huge wedding cakes...” Looking around as everyone starts chuckling. “I’ve never been at a wedding before!”

At that, Jake shoots his wife a meaningful glance. Technically, that’s not entirely true…

She meets his eyes, returning the look with a fond smile.

_Say what you will, but it’s true. Great minds do think alike…_

 

*** Madison Clark ***

 

Glass shattering on the wall, her father yelling, her mother crying. That’s the kind of Christmas Madison Clark grew up with.

For the rest of her life, she knew that those Christmases would haunt her, forever, like a nasty scar on her heart.

Considering that, maybe she never really had a chance to prevent her own Christmases from turning into huge disasters as well in the first place. The inherent fear of failing as a mother, as a guardian, as a wife… Helplessly forced to watch her husband slip through her fingers and drift into darkness, her son following right on his heels. She wanted to do better, wanted for her children to feel the warmth, the safety and love she never had – but damn, history always repeats itself, doesn’t it?

Maybe that’s the reason why today’s Christmas, just like the past years, still in a way feels like a dream to her. The dream of warm, harmonious Christmas, filled with smiles and laughter. The dream she knew would never become reality.

And yet, as she softly wraps her arms around Noah sitting on her lap, the entire family gathered by the Christmas tree, the beautiful warm glow of the twinkling fairy lights illuminating their faces and warming their hearts in the magical serenity of Christmas Eve, she knows her wish has come true.

Maybe this is her actual Christmas gift, she thinks to herself. And it took the world to end for her to get it.

“ _Once upon a time, on Christmas Eve_ ,” Madison starts, reading the first lines of the book in her hands, “ _old Scrooge sat busy in his office. It was very cold outside and in Scrooge’s office it was not much warmer either. Suddenly, a cheerful person entered the office. It was Scrooge’s nephew._

_‘A merry Christmas, uncle! God save you!’ Fred said._

_‘Bah!” said Scrooge, ‘Humbug! What’s Christmas time to you? You have to pay bills without money! You’re a year older but not an hour richer! Keep Christmas in your way, and let me keep it in mine.’_ ”

She feels Noah shift in her arms, snuggling against her as he gazes at the artful illustrations in the book.

Alicia’s sitting on one of the cushions on the floor, legs drawn to her chest, chin resting on her knees, quietly listening to this classical story – and as Madison glances at her for the slightest of seconds, it almost seems as if despite all the deprivations and hardship Alicia’s gone through, for a moment she’s turned back into a little girl, mesmerized by a magical story.

And yet, at the very same time, it’s almost impossible to ignore the strong, beautiful woman Alicia’s grown into. A fighter. A healer. A loving mother. Cause, unburdened by the past, Alicia’s been able to give her son the security and warmth Madison had always tried so hard to give to her children. And in a way, watching Alicia succeed, it allows Madison to make peace with her own past as well.

Her eyes wander on to Jake, who has his hands around a glass of mulled wine, taking the occasional sip as he smiles softly, watching his son peacefully in Madison’s arms, hand softly stroking over his wife’s back.

And next to him, Nick and Troy, listening to the story in silence, with Nick leaned back in Troy’s arms, absentmindedly gazing at the shining ring on his hand with a blissful smile on his face… A spontaneous engagement, can you believe it? They’d all been surprised. And yet, she couldn’t be happier for both of them.

Truth is, back when Nick had told her he was trying to take influence on Troy by faking romantic interest, she’d feared the worst. Troy had been a risk, dangerous, unpredictable. But Nick’s affection had changed him, _healed_ him. Just as it had healed Nick.

The boy who’d always struggled with himself to find the right path. The one whose path led him on so many detours – and more than once nearly off the cliff. Now here he was, the loyal soldier, the reliable son, the caring boyfriend.

_There’ll be a whole new bunch of ways for them to make you proud._

With a gentle smile, she goes on with the story, reading page after page, as the rest of the family listens to the three Ghosts of Christmas paying grumpy, greedy old Scrooge their visits and getting him to change his way.

In a way, Madison thinks to herself, they all may have been a little like Scrooge themselves. Troy, Nick, Alicia, herself – they all had their demons, haunting them with pain, despair and loneliness, their dark Ghosts of the Past.

And yet here they were, together, happy, at peace on Christmas Present.

They’ve all come a long way, without a doubt, but no matter the pain of the past, the future’s still in their hands. And with a look at Noah, she prays they’ll succeed in making it a better one. A future, in which the warmth and joy that fills their hearts right now will be all Noah ever knows, for all the Christmases Yet to Come.

“ _Bob Cratchit was very surprised, and so were many people who found Scrooge so changed,”_ Madison concludes eventually, as she reaches the final page of the book. _“Scrooge became a better person, as good a master, and as good a man, as the good old city knew, or any other good old city or town in the good old world._

_It was always said of Scrooge, that he knew how to keep Christmas well. May that be truly said of us, and all of us! And so, as Tiny Tim would say, God bless us, every one!_ ”

Merry Christmas!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who's enjoyed my stories during the last year, commented, left kudos or got into any extensive discussions with me^^ It was a wonderful year enjoying Trick with all of you, so thank you very much for all the fun, supporting words, ideas and inspiration we shared!
> 
> Merry Christmas to all of you and happy new year!


	10. The Young Lady of Riga (Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our world has been taken over by an endless army of animated corpses, eager to hunt you down, tear you apart and devour your body alive, limb by limb... - Not really a story you could or should tell your children at night... or should you? How can the New World be explained to kids without either scaring them to death or making them reckless?
> 
> This chapter is my take on how the life of children might be like at Broke Jaw Ranch, a question I've been wanting to cover for a long time.
> 
> So here we go: A glimpse at the ranch, the apocalypse and of course the Trick relationship through Noah's eyes! :)
> 
> Maybe someone's interested in that subject? Hope you'll enjoy it!

_There was a young lady of Riga,_

_who smiled as she rode on a tiger._

_They returned from the ride_

_with the lady inside_

_and the smile on the face of the tiger._

 

“On a _tiger_?” Ronnie says, blinking at him from behind the pages of her school book. “Come on, that’s _totally_ unrealistic.” She’s lying on the couch, bored, so she doesn’t even react as the book suddenly flip over onto her face. “It doesn’t even make sense.” Her voice is muffled now as the pages cover her mouth.

“It’s a limerick, and you’re not supposed to judge the content,” Noah points out with a pout, shooting her a reproachful look. “You’re supposed to cheer me on. I have to memorize it, cause tomorrow I’ll have to recite it in class by heart.”

“Your grandma’s the teacher,” Ronnie points out as she shoves the book off her face, propping herself up on her elbows. “What could _possibly_ happen?”

Noah just frowns at her. _Not helping_. Then he shakes his head. “I’ll try again later.”

“I mean, seriously,” Ronnie goes on, not willing to let this go. “Who would even be as stupid as to ride on a _tiger_? If that lady couldn’t guess how dangerous that is, then it’s her own fault she got eaten and I don’t feel sorry for her at all.”

Noah opens his mouth to protest once more, determined to remind her that if there’s _actually_ someone she should be feeling sorry for, it’s _him_. But really, he doesn’t even want to waste another thought on that stupid poem in the first place. So frankly, he just doesn’t care whether it’s the lady who’s stupid, or rather simply the poet.

“Let’s play UNO,” he suggests instead, tossing the book aside and grabbing a deck of cards from the shelf.

Ronnie sits up on the couch, a smirk covering her face. Now that’s finally some music to her ears.

 

So, you think that sounds like an ordinary day in the lives of two ordinary kids doing ordinary homework? You’re mistaken! Cause Ronnie and I don’t attend any ordinary school in an ordinary city in an ordinary world.

We’re homeschooled by my grandma here at Broke Jaw Ranch, the place where we live – and one of humanity’s final refuges in a post-apocalyptic world.

My name is Noah Otto, and this is my story.

Even though it may not look like it at first glance, I’m also not an ordinary seven-year-old boy. And for the record, Ronnie isn’t an ordinary nine-year-old girl either. We’re both members of the fearless Ranch Patrol, a special division of the ranch’s militia that is only called upon for the toughest of cases, the ones that require special tactics and special forces. Needless to say, it’s also a super secret division, so secret that not even the militiamen themselves know of its existence.

Naturally, you can never know when the next case will pop up, so I’m perfectly equipped for any mission at all times: With the Ranch Patrol siren always on my belt. (To be fair, it’s actually my LEGO police car’s siren, or at least used to be, until we removed the sound unit and gave it a new purpose as our portable Ranch Patrol siren. The unit actually looks like an extra-large LEGO brick, but contains a set of batteries. Once you push the top of the brick, the siren goes off and it’s Ranch Patrol time!)

Speaking of Ranch Patrol time, we even got our own theme song! It goes like this:

_Hey, hey, Ranch Patrol!_

_If you find yourself in trouble, call them, go, go!_

_Watch out, you evil meanies,_

_The heroes have arrived!_

_Your wicked days are numbered,_

_The good guys will survive!_

Catchy, huh? We came up with it ourselves.

Well, aside from the theme song, we also have our own secret lair, the RPCC, which stands for “Ranch Patrol Command Center”, and that’s exactly where we’re just in the middle of taking a little break from our homework to play a quick round of cards.

The RPCC is the official basis the Ranch Patrol operates from. My dad and a few other people from the ranch have built it for us some time ago. It’s our very own little watchtower, harboring all the equipment we need for our daily work: Three big boxes of toys and games, our school books, an old couch and a table, and last but not least, our Ranch Patrol teepee tent that contains all of our top secret detective equipment and intergalactic weapons arsenal.

So rest assured, no matter what others might tell you, the _actual_ heroes of the ranch are us – and heroes is what the world we live in nowadays desperately needs, considering we’re basically on our own out here, with no society, cities or anything else you may know from movies or have read about in books existing anymore.

Our home, Broke Jaw Ranch, is the only safe place left in the entire _world_ , a sanctuary that’s protected by the hugest and strongest fences you could ever imagine (not that we’re allowed to go anywhere near them…). The world beyond them is burnt, as the grown-ups say. It’s a dangerous place filled with gangs of mean thieves that roam the wilderness and try to steal our resources.

But they are never successful, because our brave and powerful militia always wins and puts them to rout.

One day, the Ranch Patrol will join the big militia on their missions and together, we’ll experience the most dangerous and exciting adventures out there…

That’s been both Ronnie’s and my dream for as long as we can think! And since we’ve also been best friends for as long as we can think (which is somehow logical, since we’re basically the only kids our age at the ranch and also the youngest members of the community (at least as long as you don’t count Alex and Liam’s little one-year-old Louis, who doesn’t really do a lot despite crying and sleeping… so I wouldn’t count him in)), we’re gonna chase that dream together!

Legend has it, by the way, that shortly after Ronnie was born, my uncles Nick and Troy encountered her parents in the desert and heroically saved the little family from dying of thirst in the glaring, relentless mid-summer sun. So you see, heroism and the friendship between us runs in the families!

And I’m grateful for it. Cause Ronnie isn’t just my best friend, she’s also the most fierce warrior, the smartest detective, the stealthiest secret agent, the most gifted Jedi knight and – really – the funniest person I know – and seriously, who else would I spent my afternoons _not_ doing my homework with, if it weren’t for her?

“UNO – and going out!” she calls merrily as she slams down the final card in her hands. “ _Again_!”

Uhm, okay, scratch that. I think I better go back to memorizing the limerick.

 

***

 

“Whew,” Alicia sighs, wiping her forehead as she joins her husband in the shade of the tree, filling one of the glasses with a bit of homemade lemonade. “Who knew kids could be this exhausting...”

They’re in the middle of playing table-tennis this afternoon, the Otto family: Alicia, Jake and Noah. The last match had been between Alicia and Noah, while Jake watched the game from the shade of the tree and kept count of the scores.

Noah was good at table tennis, really good. He was almost a worthy opponent, there wasn’t really any need to let him win – and of course, as his mother, that made Alicia extremely proud. On the other hand, keeping Noah entertained in this game cost a lot of energy. A bit of relaxed engagement isn’t enough for that. So in the end, it had actually been her demanding a break, whereas Noah continued by the ping-pong table, practicing his serve.

Jake watches Alicia take a huge gulp of lemonade, eying her with an amused grin. “Exhausting, indeed,” he agrees with a chuckle, though he can’t help reminding her with a teasing grin: “And you actually considered having a second one.”

“Well...” Alicia sets the glass down, then shrugs at him easily. “If we had two of them, they could play table tennis _with each other_.”

“Or bicker all the time,” Jake laughs. “Fight and get on each other’s nerves... No...” His glance trails back to Noah, still hell-bent on getting that serve right. “We’ve been so lucky with him... In every regard. No one can be as lucky twice. He’s smart, he’s strong, he’s driven...” Eyes suddenly wandering back to his wife. “Just like his mother.”

Alicia, who’s been watching Noah as well, puts her hands on her hips, giving Jake a scolding look. “Are you flirting with me, Mr. Otto?” she asks him with mock reproach.

Jake gives her a boyish chuckle. The adorable one.  “Flirt?” he repeats innocently. “Why, I’m just stating the truth.” His eyes turn honest all of a sudden, and she knows he means it.

Even though she tries not to let it show, his compliments always get to her. “The _truth_ is,” she corrects him quietly, absentmindedly looking away. “He’s sweet and kind and just. And those traits  he got from his daddy.”

Jake’s face melts back into a smile. “So who’s flirting now?” he wants to know, wrapping his arm around her waist to pull her closer.

Alicia can’t help laughing at this, as she feels his lips on hers. “I was just stating the truth,” she whispers innocently against his kiss.

It doesn’t take more than a few blinks until they both feel little hands pummeling their sides. Noah.

Parents kissing always seems to have some sort of magnetic effect on their children, drawing them close with the intention to put an abrupt end to the pleasure of the moment.

“Gross!!! Gro-hoss!!” he complains over and over again, trying to separate them. “You’re supposed to watch me practice!!”

And just to tease him some more, they intensify the kiss, ignoring him on purpose just to annoy him.

Eventually, Noah gives up, his displeasure turning into a pout. “I hate you,” he growls, crossing his little arms before his chest.

Alicia and Jake can’t help chuckling, and – finally breaking away –, they’re both quick to crouch down, pulling their son in a warm, sweet embrace.

“We love you, too, honey,” Alicia smiles, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “So very much.”

Noah keeps up the pouting a bit longer, just because, well, you mustn’t go easy on them!, even though eventually he can’t resist the warmth of his family so close, returning the hug and leaning in to them with a happy smile.

“Well then,” Jake says eventually as he gets back up, picking up the third ping-pong rack from the table. “If you indeed practiced as hard as you just claimed,” he says, shooting Noah a defiant look, “then it shouldn’t be a problem for you to beat me, should it?”

 

***

 

They only decide to call it a day with table-tennis once it’s time to head to the canteen for dinner.

Noah walking between his parents, he immediately lets go of their hands as soon as he spots his uncles Nick and Troy together with his grandma at one of the tables in front of the big mess hall. Both men still wearing their militia fatigues, it’s obvious they’ve just returned from one of their adventurous life or death missions. Excitedly, Noah starts running towards them.

“Uncle Troy! Uncle Nick!” he calls immediately, almost out of breath as he arrives at their table. “I just beat Daddy at ping-pong – _twice_!”

“Ping-pong?” Nick repeats, swallowing a mouthful of his meal, before shooting his nephew an impressed look. “Wow, congratulations!”

“His ball came at me at lightning speed,” Noah tells him, re-acting the finale of their match with sweeping gestures – going so enthusiastically that accidentally the LEGO sound unit unhooks from his belt, dropping to the ground and activating on the impact.

_WOO-WOO-WOO,_ goes the police siren, making the other canteen guests wince in shock and turn around to reprimand the Clark/Otto family with frowning glances.

“Noah,” Jake scolds his son immediately, but Noah’s already picked up the sound unit, turning off the blaring alarm.

“Sorry,” the kid mumbles half-heartedly, hooking it back to his belt, before picking up his story once more. “So his ball came at me with lightning speed,” he goes on, “but I took a step back and hit the ball full-force and bam!” Hand precautiously trailing to the siren, just to make sure this time it stays in place. “Daddy didn’t stand a chance…!”

“Great job indeed,” Troy praises.

But Noah isn’t finished with his report yet. “And then right in the next match, I hit the ball like this and then Daddy smashed it back like that…”

The story goes on like this for a while, until Troy picks up one of the fries from his plate and turns to his nephew. “Say ahh!” Feeding it to Noah to silence him. And when Jake sits down next to him, he can’t help shooting his brother a mocking smile. “You were beaten by a seven-year-old,” he points out.

“I’m not surprised he’s a natural,” Nick chips in with a smug smile on his lips, setting down his glass of water. Turning to a chewing Noah, he goes on, “After all, when I was your age, I used to beat your mom and your grandma at ping-pong _all the time_. I was sort of the grand champion of our family.” He leans back with a smug shrug. “So I guess it’s not hard to guess which side of the family you inherited this talent from.”

“Strange,” Madison replies, looking at her son with some theatrical pondering. “Just why don’t I even remember that?”

“Your mind’s most likely repressed the humiliation,” Nick offers with a grin.

Alicia leans in to Noah. “Your uncle is living in his own private fantasy world,” she informs him as she slides onto the bench as well, sitting down next to her brother.

“Well,” Nick raises his eyebrows, “if you’re so sure about that, then maybe we should put it to the test sometime? Family tournament? Ottos versus Clarks?” And stage-whispering to Noah: “Of course in that case you’re officially a Clark. It goes without saying that you belong on the winning team.”

“Winning team,” Jake repeats with a snort. “Just wait until the Ottos take the gloves off…”

“Oh, I wouldn’t talk that big,” Troy chips in with a snort. “If you got me on your team, we’re bound to lose. I’ve never played the game in my life.”

“You’ve never played ping-pong?!” Nick turns to him with his eyes wide open. “Jesus, what did you do as a kid?” Pausing. “Wait. Don’t answer that.”

“I can teach you, Uncle Troy!” Noah offers enthusiastically.

“Thanks, buddy,” Troy replies, “but no thanks. To me, ping-pong’s just some lame ass version of real tennis.”

At that, Noah shakes his head. “Ping-pong is the fastest ball sport in the world! In professional tournaments, a smash can reach a top speed of up to 70 miles per hour!”

“My, aren’t you a smart cookie?” Troy snorts.

“He read that on the package of the racks,” Alicia informs them stealthily.

“Well,” Nick shrugs. “At least he knows where to get his intel from.” Turning to everyone. “That’s also something I’ve always been exceptionally–“

“Say ahh,” Troy quickly interrupts him, picking up another one of his fries.

“Wait, no!” Nick complains, fending off Troy’s hand. “I don’t want your fry in my mouth!”

“You don’t?” Troy just raises his eyebrows at that, looking at Nick for a moment – maybe the tiniest of blinks too long –, before simply shrugging and munching the fry himself.

 

So yeah, meet my Uncles, Nick and Troy. As you can see, they’re super funny and really cool. I love spending time with them.

Uncle Nick is always there for me when I need someone to talk to. He’s so good at comforting people and always knows exactly what to say to cheer people up. He’s also incredibly funny and always in the mood for a joke. Sometimes we even play pranks on people, and end up laughing so hard when we’re not even caught. Last week, for example, we secretly snuck into the canteen and switched the sugar in the sugar dispenser by the coffee counter with salt – it was so hilarious secretly watching people take a gulp from their coffee and wince, shudder or even gag. And so hard to not just burst into laughter! Especially when we got people like Grandma, Uncle Troy or Coop (the latter even ended up spitting out his mouthful of coffee since he usually takes three teaspoons of sugar…).

Uncle Troy on the other hand doesn’t like pranks very much, whether he’s the one being pranked or the one invited to the prank. He’s more serious and quiet than Uncle Nick, but he knows so much about nature and our environment, it’s great learning new and exciting things from him. We spend a lot of time outside on the hills or by the lake. Last summer, we even built our very own miniature waterway, channeling a bit of water from the lake into a U-shaped trench we dug – and back into the lake. It was so cool creating all of that by ourselves! We even gathered rocks and branches to build a little bridge across the stream so you could visit us on our very own personal island.

So as you can see, both my uncles are fun in their own way – and also together, especially when they start bickering like an old married couple. They are, by the way! I mean, not married. But engaged. That means they promised to marry each other one day. They really like each other very much, just like my parents, Mommy told me, and they’re also living together in the hugest house I’ve ever seen. It’s funny, because they both are boys and I still don’t understand how that even works! I mean, if they don’t have a girl living in their house, then who takes care of reminding them to change their socks or brush their teeth, or wakes them in the morning?! It doesn’t really make sense, but hey, as long as they’re happy…!

I mean, for example, one time their clumsiness in regards to housekeeping became super obvious when I paid them a surprise visit on a Sunday afternoon. I hadn’t originally planned to stop by, since Mommy had told me they wanted to celebrate some kind of anniversary that day. But Ronnie didn’t have time to play and I felt bored… And to be honest, celebrating sounded like a lot of fun!

So when I came by the house, I found the kitchen window wide open – and climbed inside.

My uncles were actually just in the middle of eating cake on the sofa in the living room, which apparently must have been a blast, since I could hear them giggle and snicker in such a silly way when I approached them. They must have been making fun of Uncle Troy’s clumsiness as apparently he’d just spilled his shirt with cake. Cause Uncle Nick was in the middle of helping him take off his shirt in order to put it into the wash – and now I was the one to grin, since I found it ridiculous that Uncle Troy actually needed help on something as simple as that!

“Hello!” I eventually greeted them with a chipper voice, but that apparently startled them so much, they were totally shocked. Uncle Troy was blushing so hard… Well, I guess I would have been embarrassed as well if someone had ended up witnessing _my_ lack of independence! They weren’t even able to _talk_ to me properly, just stammering around ridiculously, and Uncle Troy was so confused, he even put his dirty shirt back on, the one that had been supposed to go in the wash.

As you can see, sometimes they’re a little weird and awkward, but most of the times, they are great.

Stealing a few more fries from Uncle Troy’s plate, I let my gaze roam over the people sitting at our table, a happy smile on my face: Grandma telling old childhood stories of Uncle Nick failing at table-tennis, Uncle Nick protesting, Mom joining in on the stories, Uncle Troy laughing, Dad smiling.

My family. My home.

And one day – I know this for sure – I will become just like them. Fearless, strong, brave. I’ll walk through the ranch’s gates and fight those evil thieves roaming our world to keep my family safe. I’ll explore the world beyond.

One day.

Or so I thought.

 

***

 

One afternoon, Noah is lying on his bed reading a book, when all of a sudden, he hears voices outside.

“Hey, Mrs. Otto!” Ronnie’s voice. “Is Noah home?”

“Hi, Ronnie,” his mom replies friendly. “He’s upstairs, in his room.”

Immediately, Noah shuts his book and gets up, running into Ronnie halfway down the stairs.

“Hey, No,” she greets him with a smile and from the way her eyes are shining with excitement, he can immediately tell she’s up to something. “The Ranch Patrol has been called for a new mission. You in?”

As if she needed to ask!

 

“So, what’s the mission?” Noah wants to know as they stroll across the fields in some random direction. “Do we need to get our equipment?”

She purses her lips as she shakes her head, then gives him a wry grin. “There’s something I need you to see. You won’t believe your eyes.”

The farther they go, the more obvious their destination becomes: Noah’s well aware they’re heading for the fences. They’re objectively not allowed to go that far away from the ranch, but hey, it’s not their fault if the occasional mission requires them to go there!

“So, what is it you wanna show me?” Noah asks curiously, the rising wind under the glaring sun tugging at his clothes. “Did you find a good spot for us to launch our Mars rocket?”

“Nah,” she shrugs quickly. “It’s not about the rocket. You have to see for yourself.”

“Berries?” He grins.

She returns the smile, wriggling her eyebrows. “So much better.”

They’ve reached the fence by now, a huge metallic wire mesh fence, separating them from an endless, barren landscape. Turning their heads, the trailers and houses of the ranch seem so small in the distance, like cute little LEGO houses, partially hidden behind hills, grass and bushes.

Out here by the fence, they’ve always found the highest degree of freedom they’d ever get: Buried boxes and well-hidden containers harboring their most valuable possessions, the ones far too precious for the RPCC (a place that could be targeted by enemy forces anytime): Their favorite Mickey Mouse comics, the prettiest fire rocks and shiny treasures the militia brought back home from the outside, but discarded as worthless: Coins and dollar bills from the past, antiquities that used to be worth a lot in the Old World, but aren’t anymore. Nevertheless, they’re still pretty and shiny, and keeping them makes them feel like safeguarding a pirate’s treasure.

For a few minutes, they seem to randomly walk along the fence, Ronnie apparently looking for a specific spot, but unsure where exactly it is.

“I could help you if you at least told me what we’re looking for,” Noah points out, excitement already making way for boredom.

“I don’t have to,” Ronnie immediately replies as she suddenly stops in her tracks, then turns to him. “I can just show you. Hold your breath.”

She crouches down right in front of the fence. Then, with a few quick movements of her hands, she removes a bit of grass that’s apparently loose, but looked as if it was growing there naturally. Then a few branches that had been stacked up as well. And underneath all of that cover: a gaping hole in the fence.

 

“Woah!!” Noah’s eyes widen in shock and disbelief as he stares at the hole. It’s an overwhelming feeling – amazing and scary at the same time. For the first time in his life, there is no fence between him and the outside world anymore, even if just for one tiny little area.

“Isn’t it amazing?” Ronnie looks at him, her voice a solemn whisper, as if this moment was too sacred to be disturbed by a human voice.

“How on earth did you discover it?” Noah asks his friend, still unable to take his eyes off the magical door.

“Just by accident,” she shrugs. “I was trying to find a good launching spot for the rocket, while you were busy playing ping pong with your parents.”

“This is...” Noah’s struggling to find the right words, but doesn’t succeed. Then, after a few blinks, he turns his head to her. “Did you...?”

“Sneak through it?” she finishes his sentence. “No, of course not! Are you crazy? We’re not allowed to!”

“No, we’re not,” Noah repeats. “Our parents would kill us!”

For a moment, they just stare at each other, both still having their solemn expressions, until all of a sudden, they both burst into a round of merry laughter.

“I wonder what it is,” Ronnie says after a while, wiping a tear from her eyes. “What they’re so afraid of.”

“I have no idea,” Noah counters. “It’s not like there was a volcano eruption out there and the world’s now surged by molten lava.”

“Maybe a bunch of wicked aliens have infiltrated the world and they’ve poisoned the air with some extraterrestrial substance that burns your skin once you get in contact with it?” Ronnie suggests with a grin, her eyes practically shining as she comes up with the story.

Noah grins back at her for a while, then however, the smile of excitement grows into a smirk.

He turns to the hole. Then, slowly, approaches it.

“Noah!” Ronnie calls him, but it’s unclear whether that’s actually a warning or an encouragement.

Noah reaches forward, and slowly, very slowly, sticks his hand through the hole.

“Ouch!” he suddenly yells, pulling back as if he’d been hit by an electric shock.

Ronnie winces immediately, looking at him with a frown. “No!” This time, it’s pure concern. “Are you okay?”

But Noah’s pained face immediately melts into a smirk.

As soon as she gets what’s going on, Ronnie joins in with the laughter, coming closer to the hole now herself.

Courageously, she sticks her entire leg through the hole, touching the ground on the other side.

“Ouch!!” she cries as well, letting herself drop on the ground and rolling back and forth in fake pain.

They both end up laughing so hard, eyes shining with joy and excitement.

It’s true, the Ranch Patrol has had many thrilling missions so far. There is so much to do inside those fences. How much more would there even be outside?

 

***

 

That night, Noah’s unable to get any sleep. No matter how hard he tries to think of anything else in order to fall asleep, his thoughts keep circling and circling around the hole in the fence, now safely hidden again underneath the branches and undergrowth. And yet – right from underneath that cover – it feels as if the hole was calling to him. A faint voice, soft and enchanting, drawing him close.

Eventually, he decides to give up. Sitting up on his bed, he crawls over to the window. His family’s house is located on one of the hills, so he’s perfectly able to overlook the nightly ranch from up here. A view he’s always enjoyed so far, but tonight, everything looks strangely small and… _confined_. There’s a much bigger world waiting for them, outside the fences, begging to be explored.

The ranch lies in total darkness, only here and there an occasional window still being lit. One of them, to his delight, is twinkling at him from the other hillside all the way across the ranch, at the little cottage Ronnie lives at with her family. Another light, shining from her window.

He takes out his flashlight, points it at the cottage and switches it on. Once. Twice. Pause. Once. Twice. Pause. Then he turns it off entirely.

For a few moments he waits, gazing into the distance.

Then, there’s a response.

They’ve been using Morse code to communicate like this for years. Noah doesn’t even have to look up the letters. The words they make up is clear to him immediately. _Fence. Morning._

_Be there._

So right in the morning, at the break of day, with his parents still peacefully asleep, Noah puts on his boots and jacket and packs his Ranch Patrol Equipment: His Mickey Mouse Adventurer’s guide, the flashlight headband, his magnifying glass, the notebook Uncle Troy gave him, his pocket sundial, the measuring tape, a package of cookies – and most importantly, his deadly wooden sword named Sting.

Naturally, Ronnie had the exact same plan in mind – cause when he spots her approaching him across the meadow, she’s perfectly geared up for an adventure as well.

With determined gazes, they nod at each other, then they head for the forbidden fence in silence. The thrill of the adventure that lies right ahead of them sends shivers down their spines, but eventually they can’t keep up the soldier-like composure anymore, but start babbling with shining eyes.

_Hey, hey, Ranch Patrol!_

_If you find yourself in trouble, call them, go, go!_

This is gonna be the mission of their lives!!

Giggling with nervousness and excitement, they squeeze through the hole – and in front of them lies the whole wide world.

 

_There was a young lady of Riga,_

_who smiled as she rode on a tiger…_


End file.
